Hello, My Name Is Fred
by celticfox
Summary: New Who is under invasion...from the classic series! A bunch of ficlets differing in length.
1. Hello My Name Is Fred

**I have begun seeing Romana everywhere. Extreme case of wishful thinking, I suspect. Anyway, here is an extremely weird and pointless drabble, born of LotTL anger at the Davies ex Machina.**

**By rights it should be Sarah Jane or somebody, but I felt like sticking in my favorite Time Lady. **

* * *

"-and the Doctor told me, we have to use the countdown. On Launching Day. At zero, we all have to chant, at the same time, _Doctor. _Then he'll turn back with special powers and stuff and save us all." Martha Jones looked out at the faces of the assembled people. "Any questions?"

One hand went up.

Martha sighed. "Yes?"

The owner of the hand was a young blonde woman in a pink coat with a long white scarf. "Excuse me," she said, "but since this paradox machine is what's changing everything, if we destroy it then everything will change back. So why don't we just chant, 'Destroy the Paradox' or something? I mean, wouldn't that, like, make sure of it? The Doctor may be a superhero but I doubt he can withstand determined men with machine guns."

Martha frowned. " 'Destroy the Paradox'? Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue."

The blonde woman shrugged.

Martha sighed. "Okay, sounds reasonable I guess. Change of plan, everybody. What was your name again?" she asked the woman.

"…Fred."

"Isn't that a boy's-"

"Shut up."

* * *

**Okay. Go and read The-Chibi's-Are-Stalking-Me's fic 'Keeping Time', and then imagine that Romana changed herself on purpose, and then imagine that Rose-as-Bad-Wolf has discovered this during PotW, and do all this while listening to Within Temptation's 'The Truth Beneath the Rose' and then you'll know my current state of madness.**

**Reviews welcome but not required. **


	2. Aces Are Higher Than Jacks

**Even weirder than the first one, if that is at all possible. Also a lot longer. Sorry, I got a bit carried away. **

* * *

It had come as rather a shock to Rose to discover that Torchwood had private zeppelins.

"They look like huge fat blimps to me," she grumbled.

"Actually, they're quite aerodynamic," Andrew said. "These new ones can reach up to 200 kilometers an hour. We'll be there in no time."

"Excuse me?" Rose said, rolling her eyes. "Last I checked, it was 212 kilometers from Cardiff to London. What good will we be in an hour?"

"Just get inside the helicopter," Jake moaned.

* * *

On their way there, Mickey and Jake prepped her on the situation.

"WHAT?! DALEKS?!"

"I told you she'd go berserk," Mickey told Jake.

"IN CARDIFF? ARE YOU INSANE?!"

Mickey put his hands on her shoulders. "Rose, baby, calm down. I'm sure I've told you before, Daleks aren't half so deadly in this universe. There's only three of them. They came through the rift. Torchwood 3 should be able to handle the situation until we get there."

"Is that why you refused to tell me what the emergency was? And why you brought so much hardware?" She gestured at the disintegrator weapons piled in the corner. "Why the hell didn't you bring more people? The four of us- what use will that be? You can fall on your butt, Jake can video tape it, I can start shooting the corners off buildings, and Andrew can recite the probability of our gruesome deaths."

"I've told you a thousand times, we are NOT going to have repeat of the Weevil incident."

"Yeah, yeah."

Jake leaned forward. "Should probably warn you about Torchwood Three," he said, meaningly.

Mickey grinned. "Oh, yeah."

"They're even weirder than _us."_

"Is that even possible?" Rose grumbled, thinking of Andrew, with his wild eyes, incredibly neat suit, and unhealthy fascination with statistics.

"Wouldn't have thought so, but yeah. See, they have this scientific genius, Adam Mitchell- complete computer whiz, but gets twitchy if you look like you're going to snap your fingers."

Rose's eyes widened unbelievingly. "Adam Mitch-"

"Then there's the medical personnel- Harry Sullivan and his assistant Owen Harper. Sullivan's freaky- he was born in the 1950's, but doesn't look a day older than thirty-five. Owen's really morbid. Others are okay, though Tosh is really, really focused and Gwen can be a bit skitzo at times."

"How fascinating. But did you say Adam-"

Jake interrupted her. "And don't even get me started on the robot dog."

Rose's eyebrows drew together with a snap. "Robot-"

Mickey winked. "I know what you're thinking, and, definitely disco."

Jake finished, "But whatever you do, don't annoy the boss. She's got a huge temper and kung fu fighting skills. And really, really don't make any Oz jokes."

Rose was confused. "Oz jokes? What?"

"Our delightful head of Torchwood 3 was named Dorothy Gale Mcshane by well-meaning parents."

"So?"

Andrew shook his head in despair. "Rose, you're such a chav," he sighed.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

"Coming in for a landing!" the pilot yelled from the cockpit.

* * *

The Cardiff plaza was a mess, the fountain tilted at an odd angle, bodies and fleeing people everywhere. Three Daleks rushed around the center, corralled by people in dark clothes and sunglasses and also large energy weapons.

"You were right," Rose said critically as she exited the vehicle, "these aren't a patch on the ones we used to get. Back in my day-"

"WATCH OUT!" screamed Mickey as a Dalek turned its deathray on her.

"EX-TER-MIN-"

"Leave her alone!"Mickey yelled, firing his weapon at the evil pepperpot. The eyestalk turned, but the disintigrator gun had no effect on the Dalek force field. "Damn," Mickey and Jake swore in unison. "Weevils all over again."

The Dalek turned back to Rose. "EX-TER-MIM-ATE!"

"ROSE!" Mickey and Jake screeched as a blue energy ray shot from the Dalek. Things seemed to go in slow motion. Rose saw, at a speed of half a frame per second, the ray shoot out, and then a roaring and a huge black clunky motorcycle appearing in a burst of golden light between her and the pepperpot.

Things speeded up again. Rose blinked.

The Dalek was a smoking heap of charred metal, the motorbike was on its side, and a woman in her early thirties lay crumpled on the ground. "Oh my god," Rose choked out, walking closer. The woman had long golden hair and was wearing a black bomber jacket. "Oh my god, she's dead! Oh god-"

Jake and Mickey walked closer. "Actually," Mickey began-

The woman gasped for breath and sat up, looking around. "Hello," she said to Rose, "I'm Ace. Want to go kick Dalek whatever-they-have?"

"-that's the other weird thing about Torchwood Three's boss."

* * *

**This was originally going to be Romana, but it worked better with Ace.**

** I saw Kiss Kiss Bang Bang! Oh James Marsters, marry me!**

**This being the first Torchwood episode I've ever seen, I have formed a good impression of the show.**


	3. You Are Really, Really Not Alone

**Another long one. Had this in my head all day, then wrote it in ten minutes. **

* * *

The Face Of Boe looked into the Doctor's stricken brown eyes, and told his great secret.

"You Are Not Alone."

Unknown to the others, he sniggered with evil joy as he died.

* * *

One year later, the Doctor thought he knew what the Face had meant. He fought the Master, he won, the Master died through outside circumstances, all was as usual. He had a Return of the Jedi scene and then went away.

A few minutes later, a female hand with red fingernails picked up the Master's ring.

It was Lucy Saxon. However, she didn't look much like Lucy Saxon. She had a new hairstyle, a new dress with an even lower neckline, and a nice evil laugh. This was because she was actually the Rani.

"Surprise, surprise," she said, then laughed again.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a parallel universe, Rose, Mickey, Jake, Jackie, and Pete were gathered together in the living room of the Tyler Mansion. Rose was full of apprehension. This was not entirely unfounded.

"Rose, darling," Jackie said, sadly, "there's something I should have told you years ago."

"What is it, Mother dearest?" Rose said.

"You're…" Jackie started to cry. Pete patted her awkwardly on the back. Jackie sniffled, then continued. "You're adopted."

There was a long, awkward silence.

"WHAT?!!"

"Can you ever forgive me for not telling you?"

"WHAT?!!"

"The time just wasn't right, dearest-"

"WHAT?!!"

"Pete- the other Pete- and I found you in a basket on our doorstep twenty years ago. This was with you." Jackie held up a watch. "It's broken, but maybe you'll want the piece of junk for sentimental value."

Rose grabbed it. Mickey leaned over. "Hey…" he said, "that's just like mine!" And he reached into his pocket and pulled out an identical watch. The two flicked the watches open. Golden light streamed out.

"Aaaagh!" screamed Jackie.

"Aaaagh!" screamed Andred. "I've turned into a complete loser!"

"Don't fool yourself, Andred; you always were a complete loser," Romana said dryly. Then she looked down at herself.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!!!!!!! I'm a CHAV!"

* * *

At the same time, back in the Doctor's universe, Gwen Cooper noticed a pocket watch she hadn't realized she had. "I wonder what this is!" she thought as she opened it.

A few minutes later Owen came in. "Gwen? We've got another Weevil nest, come on-" He stopped. "Gwen?"

Gwen had cut her hair and was examining herself in a pocket mirror. "Hmm, not bad…"

"Gwen? Have you been possessed or something?"

"Hmm?" She looked up. "Oh, my name's not Gwen. It's Susan."

"OMG YOU HAVE BEEN POSESSED!" Owen shrieked, and kicked her out of Torchwood.

Susan looked at the fountain.

"Well, I'm obviously SOMEWHERE on Earth…"

* * *

The Doctor was relaxing on a beach in eighteenth century Spain when the Master turned up and shot him.

He regenerated into the handsome, dashing Eleventh Doctor, with gold hair and clear blue eyes.

Then the Rani turned up. "Hello," she said seductively. "Bet you weren't expecting to see _me _again." Then she shot him.

He regenerated into the even more handsome and slightly goth Twelfth Doctor, with long black hair and smouldering green eyes.

Then, because Romana had figured out how to cross the gulf between universes, Andred appeared. "I can't believe you blew up Gallifrey!" he angsted and then shot him.

The Doctor regenerated into the very ginger Thirteenth Doctor. He even had a shoddy little goatee.

Then Susan turned up.

"Grandfather!" she cried.

The Doctor squinted. "Do I know you?"

"Waaah!" Susan cried, and ran away. The Doctor shrugged.

Then Romana appeared.

"Doctor?" she asked, uncertain.

"Rose!" the Doctor screamed and kissed her. Romana kissed him back. "Oh, Rose, I thought I'd never see you again," the Doctor said.

Then Romana slapped him, harder than Jackie and Francine combined.

"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME TRAPPED IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, YOU GINGER _(censored)_!"

"Ow!" the Doctor complained.

Romana marched off and stole the TARDIS.

* * *

Jack heard the doorbell ring. "What?" he thought, confused. "I didn't know we had a doorbell in our secret underground base. Or a door, for that matter." Shrugging, he answered the door.

A much older Doctor, with gray in his ginger hair, stepped inside and shot him.

After Jack came back, he glared at the Doctor. "What was that for?"

"You _(censored)_ big face thing!" the Doctor screamed.

* * *

**Review and get a Dalek-shaped cookie! With frosting!**


	4. Adric Plays To Win!

**Because I always thought I would have handled that situation better than Rose.**

* * *

Adric blinked blearily. He couldn't remember a thing, and that was scary, because he'd always prided himself on a perfect memory, although he couldn't in fact remember that right now. He looked around. He was somewhere dark, with sweeping lights. He blinked again.

Then there were two strong arms around him, pulling him up. He stood up shakily. A woman smiled at him. He looked down at his clothing. Something was missing. Oh! His badge. Why was it missing?

Memory rushed back. The Doctor. Nyssa. Tegan. Cybermen. A freighter crashing into the Earth, and then... a white light. And then this.

The woman was still smiling at him. She had dark hair and an intelligent face.

"It's all right, the transmat does that. Scrambles your head. Most times you get a bit of amnesia. What's your name?"

"A-Adric," he mumbled. Keep quiet, he thought. Keep quiet 'till you figure things out.

"Just remember, do what the android says. The android's word is law."

Android. Adric tried to make sense of the word. So many things were different in this universe.

"Positions!" came another woman's voice.

"Come on," said the dark-haired woman kindly, tugging him along. She deposited him at a podium with the name ADRIC in lights on it, in a circle of other podiums with other people behind them. He looked around at the others. A dark-skinned man, a dark-haired young man, a blond young woman, a blond older woman, and a robot. _Android? _he thought.

The lights flashed. _"Welcome," _said the android, _"to the Weakest Link."_

The woman counted down. Adric looked around, trying to make sense of it all.

The 'android' started asking people questions. Adric could soon see that he would have no chance of winning this... game, he supposed it must be. Being from a different time period _and _a different universe, he didn't even know if he could count on his knowledge of basic astronomy. He noticed that he wasn't the only one having difficulties. The other teenagers, the dark-haired boy and the blond girl, were also getting half the questions wrong. The blond girl was laughing like crazy, so maybe the game was harmless. Adric remained on alert, just in case. His travels with the Doctor had taught him that things were seldom as they appeared. Thinking of the Doctor made him feel lonely, somehow. He wished he still had his badge.

The questions stopped. Adric gathered that the first round was over. He looked around, trying to see if there were any exits hidden in the dark. "Adric!" snapped the dark-haired woman. "You have to vote."

"What?" Adric asked.

"Vote for the person you thought did the worst!" She held up a card, on which she had written 'Broc'. Broc, Adric remembered, was the name of the dark-haired teenager. Adric hastily scribbled 'Broc' onto his card. They all held up their cards. Broc had the most votes.

"Goodbye," said the android, and vaporized Broc. The blond woman burst into tears, declared she wasn't playing, and ran for it. The android vaporized her too.

Ah. So that was the downside.

The blond girl seemed to be making some kind of fuss. Adric ignored her. It was vitally important that he get out of this game. But how? The answer was there, he knew it. He thought, cudgeling his enormous brain into action. Aha! He had it.

"Excuse me," he said loudly. "It's illegal for me to be playing this game."

"Why's that then?" said the android, threateningly.

He smiled, smugly. "I'm a minor."

There was an awestruck silence. Then, "I'm a minor, too," said the blond girl, crossing her fingers behind her back.

The android emitted a low beeping noise, croaked "CAN-NOT-COM-PUTE," and exploded.

Staff members handed out compensation and gift bags to everyone. "We're so sorry for the inconvenience," said one woman in uniform."

"Oh, that's quite all right," Adric replied magnanimously.

"The transmat beam will now return you home," she continued.

"Er," Adric interrupted quickly, "you really don't have to go to all that trouble." He thought of the crashing freighter.

"I have to find the Doctor," the blond girl mewed plaintively.

"Actually," Adric said, thinking quickly, "I'm with her. I'm her little brother, you know." He kicked the girl hard on the shin, the universal signal for 'shut up and let me do the talking'.

"Not much family resemblance," the staff member said doubtfully.

"Adopted," Adric explained.

He thought about how much he was going to hit the Doctor. He hoped his badge was still intact. It was his most valued possession.

Three violent-looking people burst into the room.

The blond girl ran up to the one in front. "Doctor!" she squealed. The Doctor, however, paid no attention to her, being too busy staring at Adric. "Oi, I'm talkin' to you!" she yelled angrily.

"You've gone and bloody regenerated again, haven't you," said Adric.


	5. It's Allowed For Cheap Tricks

**I'm home sick today, and MISERABLE. Feel my pain, and then enjoy the story. Short but sweet. Let's see how many of you figure out who I'm shipping in this. The prize is a very long scarf and a box of Kleenex, because I'm out of Dalek Sec dolls.**

* * *

Aaron P. Blinovitch was checking his email at ten o'clock in the morning when he found this rather curious message.

_Dear Aaron,_

_ You're brilliant. No, really, you are. I mean it. You are brilliant. I mean, only a real genius could have worked out the Law of Casual Determination. Oops, forget I said that, actually- my girlfriend's just reminded me you haven't done that one yet._

_ Anyway, found myself in the same time-stream, decided to send you a note. And tell you- that lecture you'll be giving this afternoon? Brilliant. Fantastic, even. We went three times. I waved at myself. How's _that _for finding loopholes in the limitation effect? Like I told her- cheap tricks, I told her, it's allowed for cheap tricks. She just rolled her eyes at me and told me it's a wonder they ever let me graduate._

_ Anyway. Look out for me. I'm in the front row in the middle. And the back row on the left. And the third row down to the right. I'm in pinstripes, sort of- well, brown. Next to the blond, who is getting quite annoyed at me and protesting that she actually came to _listen _to the lecture, not to play silly games with the self-consistency principle. All three times._

_ Anyway. Got to go. Got a date in Ancient Rome. Though knowing my luck, we'll end up in Cardiff again. Allons-y, Aaron! _

Blinovitch eventually concluded that either it was from yet another loony, or one of the stupid Time Agency students was playing silly buggers again. They seemed to think it attracted girls. Or boys, as the case may be. _Oh, look, I can cause a rent in the fabric of space-time, can I have your phone number? _

He deleted the message.

But it is worth noting that, later that afternoon, during his lecture on the Blinovitch Limitation Effect, he kept his eyes firmly glued to his lecture notes, and never once made eye contact with any member of the audience. The students generally agreed that it was a pretty good lecture, even so. Then they went out to try and pick up girls. Or boys.

* * *


	6. Doctor, Will You Marry Me?

**I guess I wanted to use Romana I for something... I haven't really put her in a story before, which is a shame because she's so awesome.**

**Weird, AU, and slightly crackficcy.**

**...**

**Oh, who am I fooling, it's _really _crackficcy. I hope you enjoy it anyway.**

* * *

"Romana?" the Doctor called, bouncing through the TARDIS. "Romana? How would you like to go to the beaches of Betelgeuse Five? Pretty water, white sailboats in the harbor...they have a type of dune-dwelling shrub which I think would look quite nice in the TARDIS gar... dens..." He trailed off, jaw dropping.

His companion was standing by the console. Her dark brown hair had been piled up into some sort of ornate arrangement. And she was wearing... she was wearing...

"Red," he muttered faintly.

"Doctor," said Romana, "there's something I wanted to ask you."

"Romana," said the Doctor, "that dress... um... it's a bit... uh... low-cut?"

"Doctor," said Romana, "I think we should get married."

The Doctor's brain gabbled and gibbered. Finally he choked out, "That's preposterous, Romana. Marriage isn't any fun at all, and I should know."

"I think we could make it be fun," she said, smiling in a way that made the Doctor turn quite red.

"You know, you should go put on something a little more... uh... sensible," he said.

"Why? We're going to a beach, aren't we?"

* * *

Half an hour later, Romana was regretting her choice of attire. This was because they were on the run from a mob of frothing Zelusians. Apparently the Doctor had committed sacrilege by trying to fix their Holy Light of Lightly Lightness with the sonic screwdriver, an act which had ended with the blasted thing exploding in a shower of pretty sparks. Now Romana was trying to run away without tripping over her ruffles. "Let this be a lesson to you," the Doctor panted.

Romana turned and looked at him. He looked impossibly adorable. His hat had flown off and he was miraculously not tripping on his scarf, which she'd always held to be some sort of superpower. "We should _so _get married," she told him.

Luckily, at that moment the Zelusians caught up with them and dragged them away, so he was spared trying to find an answer.

* * *

Now they were in the clink and due to be executed the next day. Romana considered her next move. Possibly she should seduce the guard, although this would be rather hard seeing as he was a giant spiny lizard. The Doctor's sonic screwdriver had been duly confiscated. Romana rattled the bars a bit, to see if any of them were lose. They weren't.

She looked over at the Doctor, who was fiddling with his scarf.

"You enjoy this sort of thing, don't you," she said in a huff. "Certain death, daring escapes, all of that."

"Why do you think I left Gallifrey?" he asked.

She sighed, and leaned against the bars between them, and took his hand. "Doctor, if we are going to die tomorrow-"

"What?" he asked, very seriously, with none of his usual foppishness.

"You have to promise me something." She looked into his eyes.

"Anything."

"If we do by some miracle survive-"

"Yes?"

She grinned, a very undignified expression for someone of her sophistication. "You have to marry me."

* * *

It turned out that the Zelusian's method of execution was to make you walk the plank, with anchors tied to your ankles. "Rather a seafaring people, aren't they?" the Doctor remarked cheerfully, as they were pushed to the edge of a cliff over nice deep water. "Yo ho ho and all that."

"Oh, do shut up," Romana told him.

The Zelusians started yelling at them.

"Oh, all _right!_" Romana shouted, "just do shut up, will you people?" and hopped over the edge of the boat. Then there was quite a lot of falling, and screaming, and then a loud splash as she hit the water and started to sink. There was another splash nearby. _You know, this dress is going to be quite ruined, _she informed the Doctor crossly.

_Sorry, _he replied. _I don't think my scarf's going to ever be the same, either. Oh, well- it's one of the blue ones, and I don't like them half as much as the red ones._

_I think you're getting confused with jelly babies, Doctor._

_You may be right. Oh, I say, how come our telepathy's working so well?_

_I think it's something to do with the water. Electrolytes, or something._

_Ah, of course. You know, we're sort of sinking. We should probably do something about that._

_Oh, I daresay when we hit the bottom we'll find something sharp to cut the rope. I do _not _fancy dragging an anchor all the way back to shore._

_It seems to be taking quite a while, though. I say, this water really is jolly deep, isn't it? I do hope the pressure doesn't kill us._

_That would just be the perfect ending to a perfect day._

_As I think you told me once, sarcasm is an adjustive stress reaction._

_Thank you for reminding me, dear. Wait- what are those lights? Doctor- is that the TARDIS?_

_Oh don't be absurd, Romana- that thing's obviously being piloted, and I'm the only one who can drive the TARDIS._

_So that's not the TARDIS, then._

_No, of course not._

_It does look awfully like the TARDIS, though._

_But it's not. It can't be. That would be preposterous._

_I think it _is _the TARDIS, Doctor._

_Oh? And why's that?_

_Because the door's just opened and you're telling us to come in._

_Well, I suppose we'd better listen to me, then. Just as well- I didn't really fancy trying to cut through ropes under water anyway. Do you have any idea how hard that is?_

* * *

Shivering, Romana wrapped herself in a towel the blond girl had just handed her. Her red dress was ruined, wet, and a bit transparent, too, so she was very grateful for the towel. She looked sharply at the blond girl. _Cute, _she thought. "So you're going to be me?" she said aloud.

"Oh yes," said the girl.

"Hmm. And what number are you?"

"Oh, only two, I've never seen the point in wasting my regenerations like he does."

"Just what I've always said."

They both turned to look at the Doctor. He was, of course, arguing with himself. Romana noted with interest that the blond's Doctor looked rather... well... _attractive._

"That's going to be fun," she murmured.

"Oh, _yes," _said the blond in satisfaction.

_Her _Doctor, however, was making scathing remarks on the future Doctor's sense of style. "Oh please," Romana muttered. "Like you've ever had any style."

"Actually," said the blond, "number Eight had rather good taste."

"A miracle," said Romana.

"Watch out for Six, though," said the blond. "He'll be rather too fond of that coat of many colors you found in the closet yesterday."

"Yeeech," they said in unison, and giggled.

"I think I like me," said Romana.

"Well, of course," said the blond. "I'm not silly like _him, _always pretending to hate his other incarnations."

Romana took in her surroundings. "You've changed the desktop theme," she noted.

The blond nodded. "We had a decorator come in," she exlained.

"I like it. White is sooo boring."

"I couldn't agree more."

Romana glanced at the Doctors again, then lowered her voice. "Tell me..." she whispered. "Do we get married?"

* * *

Now they were back in the other TARDIS. "Well," said Romana, after she'd gotten changed into something _very _sensible, "that was... interesting."

The Doctor shook his head sadly. "And I didn't even get my shrub."

"My heart bleeds for you."

"It's too bad, really. I was so looking forward to it."

Romana walked up to him, grabbed his scarf, and started kissing him. Quite creatively, she thought.

"Um," said the Doctor a minute later.

"Yes?" asked Romana nervously.

The Doctor stared at her. "Uh... Romana..."

"Yes?"

"Will you marry me?"

* * *


	7. Thirteen

**This doesn't really have anything from the old series in it, but I didn't know where else to put it, so...**

* * *

"Well. That was... exciting," Aislinn said, picking her way over the rubble. "God knows how this'll be explained."

"Terrorists, probably," the man strolling next to her remarked.

Aislinn looked up at the amazing, mysterious man who'd blown up her job and saved the world. His ginger hair was streaked with soot and ash flakes covered his expensive-looking black suit, but he strolled elegantly through the ruins like he hadn't a care in the world. She wasn't sure if she believed he was an alien, exactly, but she knew he was unlike anything she'd ever seen before.

"So, what now?" Aislinn asked, casually. They had reached the end of what had once been a business building and stood on the curb of an empty street.

He turned, elegantly, like a dancer, and suddenly he was staring at her and his eyes were on fire and his passably handsome features were alive with emotion. "Aislinn, how would you like to..."

"Yes?" she gasped in anticipation.

And then suddenly the fire died, the face snapped back to expressionless mode, and his eyes turned deep and sad. "Never mind, it's nothing important," he said in a toneless voice. "See you around, I suppose." He turned, and set off down the pavement with his ground-eating stride.

"Wait!" Aislinn yelled, running after him. She saw him turn into an alley and speeded up. Accelerating, she rounded the corner and stood there, panting.

The alley was a dead end. He was nowhere to be seen. But Aislinn heard a strange noise and felt an alien wind on her face, and for a moment she saw the Universe. Then it was gone, and she was crying. "Doctor! Doctor, come back! Please!"

There was no answer.

* * *


	8. Hello My Name Is Fred 2

**The Stolen Earth. Well. Well. Well.**

_**Has RTD finally gone insane??**_

**This was the craziest, wildest, funnest episode yet, and expect to see a lot more of it. This was all I could scribble out immediately.**

* * *

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," Rose muttered under her breath as she fought her way through the panicked crowds. It was all going so wrong. She had to find the Doctor, or the Earth would be destroyed!

"Look, why do you even care?" she heard Andrew say in a very sarcastic voice, several universes away. "It's not _our _Earth. Leave it to roast!"

"I can't do that!" she screamed. "I know some of these people!"

"Well, you'd better give up and get out soon," he said, "or you'll die with them."

"Oh, shut up!" Rose yelled, and disabled the intercom. Several people were giving her strange looks, but then again, what was a pretty girl who talked to herself when the sky was full of killer aliens? They didn't give her a second glance.

She shouldered her way through the crowd, kicking ankles and elbowing and generally shoving, when she realized that in her haste she'd knocked over a young girl in a white night dress. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said in remorse, and helped the girl get to her feet. When the girl was standing, she realized that the girl was not as young as she'd thought, although it was hard to tell. Her face was unlined, but it had eyes that were both young and old. Her hair was long and blond, and what Rose had taken for a white night dress was really some elaborate Victorian-style creation. Strange, but then Rose must look rather strange herself, with a huge gun slung over her shoulder and her panicked expression. Although everyone looked panicked.

Except this young/old girl, strangely enough. Her young/old eyes regarded her coolly. Rose stammered out an apology and pushed past, eager to get _somewhere, _even if she wasn't quite sure where. But she felt a light touch on her arm, that quickly turned into an extremely strong hold, and she turned to look into those young/old eyes again. They looked somewhat brown, although with the red light of explosions lighting everything it was impossible to know for sure.

"Look, _please_ let go of me, I'm sorry I knocked you over, but I'm in a rather large hurry-"

"The Doctor, right?"

Rose stared, silent.

The strange girl sighed. "Look, you're no use to anyone, all panicked like that. I suppose we don't have enough time for tea. Still-" another sigh- "-you really shouldn't rely on him so much. You'll give him a swelled head."

"But I've got to find him," Rose explained, feeling that dreadful sense of urgent hoplessness again. "He's the only one who can help."

"Stop bleating that," the girl snapped. "Look, it's obvious. You've got a teleport, right?"

Rose nodded.

"And a large, dreadfully efficient gun."

Rose nodded.

"And a team of scientists to calculate coordinates."

Rose nodded.

"And? This doesn't suggest anything to you?"

Rose shook her head.

The girl heaved the hugest sigh yet. "Rassilon preserve me from ignorant apes who don't know how to use their brains properly. Look. Take the teleport and use it to teleport into the Dalek mothership. Then, take your disgustingly large gun, and kill Davros, Dalek Caan, and any other Daleks that look important. Then grab any important technology that happens to be hanging around, teleport back down, find the Doctor at your leisure, and contact the Shadow Proclamation so they can move you all back. Comprendes?"

Rose nodded, a rather dazed expression on her face. Then she teleported away.

The girl sighed a fifth time.

Rose teleported back.

"What is it?" the girl snapped.

"Who the hell are you?" Rose asked.

"You can call me Fred."

"Isn't that a boy's-"

_"Shut up."_

* * *

**I'm not really that annoyed at Rose, but it seems like every time the Doctor shows up, her independence and maturity drop several decimal places! At least most of the other companions could function well enough on their own. Well... actually, forget I said that. _coughPericough_ In any case, Romana wouldn't have just gone around panicking that she couldn't find the Doctor.**

* * *


	9. Impossible Things

**This chapter is really just to annoy Jessa L'Rynn. Sorry, I couldn't resist.**

* * *

1.

Jack just couldn't take it any more. He couldn't take the angst, couldn't take the struggle, couldn't take watching everything he cared about turn to dust, and he really, really couldn't take any more of these stupid reruns.

He shot the TV to hell, then used his new and improved vortex manipulator to the London Blitz, where he shot himself.

For a moment nothing seemed to be happening.

Then the paradox caught up with him and he winked out of existence.

And just like that, Torchwood was no more.

And there was much rejoicing among the Ten/Jack anti-shippers.

And then they were all sporked to death by the Jack/Ianto fans.

* * *

2.

The Doctor tried to focus. It was vital that he concentrate. Everything, but everything, hung in the balance. It was a matter of life or death.

"I'll see your Resurrection Gauntlet and raise you a hand in a jar."

His opponent raised an eyebrow. "A hand in a jar? Nothing doing, buster."

"It's my hand!"

"No."

"Okay then," he said, sweating. "I'll see your Resurrection Gauntlet and raise you a sonic yo-yo."

"Acceptable. You know, it's really a shame, me taking your stuff like this," she said, laying down her hand.

He stared. "What?!"

"Hand it over, dude," said the mysterious fortune-telling girl who liked to hang out in bars.

Giving up, he stood up and began emptying his dimensionally transcendent pockets. "This may take some time..."

* * *

3.

The Doctor and Romana cautiously raised their heads, choking on the smoke.

"Oh dear," said Romana.

"My TARDIS!" screamed the Doctor.

"I'm dreadfully sorry," said Romana.

"My TARDIS!" screamed the Doctor.

"How was I supposed to know it was explosive?"

"My TARDIS!" screamed the Doctor.

"Never mind, we can steal you another one."

"My TARDIS!" screamed the Doctor.

"It was getting on in years, anyway. Never worked properly. I rather hated it, in fact."

"My TARDIS!" screamed the Doctor.

"Although I will miss my wardrobe."

"My TARDIS!" screamed the Doctor.

"Will you please shut up?!"

* * *

4.

"Look," said the Rani. "This is my dear little Woogums."

The Master looked nervously at the smelliest, evilest, red-eyed-est fluffy bunny rabbit he'd ever seen. It had vampire fangs. It winked at him.

"Ah. One of your, er, experiments, is it?" he inquired, hoping she didn't notice the quaver in his voice.

"Yes. If he tries to bite your leg off, just hit him on the nose, he's a sweetheart, really. Go on, pet him."

The Master stuck his fingers in to the cage. Not a smart move.

"AAAGH! AAAGH! AAAGH, HE'S JUST BITTEN OFF MY KNUCKLES! AAGH!"

"Yes, I'm afraid he does that sometimes," the Rani said, shaking her head distractedly as she examined her latest T. Rex fetus. "Bad wabbit."

* * *


	10. The AntiShipper

**Let me apologize in advance for this one. I'm sorry. Please don't kill me, I just signed up at Teaspoon and I'm very excited about it!**

**Edit: Tenth chapter! Yay!**

* * *

It was a gorgeous planet, the most beautiful they had ever visited. There were meadows of wildflowers. There were pristine beaches. There were beautiful deer-like animals bounding through the wildflowers.

The Doctor and his companion sat on a sand dune.

They held hands, and gazed at the beautiful sunset.

The TARDIS was humming softly nearby.

The companion turned to look deep into the Doctor's eyes. "Oh, Doctor," she sighed.

"Oh, darling," the Doctor sighed.

"Oh, Doctor."

"Oh, darling."

She took a deep breath. "There's something I want to tell you, Doctor," she said.

"What?" asked the Doctor, breathless.

"I- I- I love you, Doctor!"

"I love you too, diamond of my hearts!"

They kissed passionately.

There was a loud buzzing noise, a flash of white light, and a small child in pink sneakers fizzled into existence. She was holding a worryingly large gun.

Then she saw the Doctor and his companion.

"OMG! EEEEWWW!! THAT IS, LIKE, SOOOO GROSS! LIKE, WTF?? EEEEWWW!"

And then she shot them.

* * *

**The return of Barbara II! Let there be much rejoicing!  
**

* * *


	11. Interesting

**I just saw Curse of Fenric, and let me tell you, that has got to be one of the best DW episodes EVER. It's really sold me on the Seven/Ace team, and I'm starting to really like Seven because, well, he's just not the Doctor. He is completely unlike any of the others. And this makes him INTERESTING!**

**Anyway, this is kind of like a missing scene thing from a much bigger story arc that I'm sort of working on. Please review and tell me if it's at all good.  
**

* * *

"This doesn't look like Perivale, Professor," Ace commented as she stepped out of the TARDIS. She took in the wide plaza, the Millennium Building, and the sculpture that doubled as a fountain. She shook her head. "Where is this, Mars?"

The Doctor followed her out of the TARDIS, closing the door gently behind him, and doffing his hat with a careful movement. "This looks like Cardiff," he remarked, his expression, as usual, giving no hint as to his feelings. Ace couldn't for the life of her tell if he was surprised or not. "Twenty-first century, perhaps. Only been here once or twice, couldn't tell you anything more specific, I'm afraid." He looked back at the TARDIS, tapping its blue wooden side. "We're here for a bit of a pit stop. There's a rift here, according to my instruments. A rift in space and time. It puts out energy. We're here for a recharge."

"Like a gas station."

"Exactly."

Just then a small brown-haired whirlwind sped past Ace like a cheetah and jumped the Doctor. "Dad! Dad!" it appeared to be shrieking. "OMG, Dad! Sorry, I mean Doctor!"

The Doctor gently disentangled the child from him and stepped back a bit, peering at it. It appeared to be a girl, perhaps eleven or so, although he was never all that great at judging the ages of humans. She was wearing navy corduroy overalls and a dark green t-shirt, and her brown hair was up in two pigtails. She gazed back at him steadily, with intelligence in her dark eyes. Suddenly she gasped. "You're not the Doctor!" she said.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I am, young lady," he said, "though you appear to have me at a disadvantage. I say-" he began, but was stopped by her very forceful slap. "-I say, what was that for?" he asked, in an annoyed voice, though still sounding rather amused.

The child put her hands on her hips. "What was that for? What was that for?? That was for _leaving _me, jerk! That was for taking off and _leaving _me here, without so much as a by-your-leave, for two years, and then when you come back you've got a new _face _and who the _hell _is _she?!_" the girl screamed, gesturing at Ace.

Here was an area Ace could make a contribution in. "I'm Ace," she said with a friendly smile.

"You're _blond, _that's who you are!"

Ace was stung. "No I'm not!" she exclaimed, incensed. "I'm a brunette, I am! It just goes a bit yellow in the sun sometimes!"

"Close enough," said the girl, waving her hand.

"Look, my dear-" said the Doctor.

"Don't 'my dear' me!" the girl yelled at him.

"-you really do have me at a disadvantage," he continued. "I have absolutely no idea who you are."

The girl sagged. "Oh," she said in a small voice.

"I'm sorry," said Ace, feeling bad for her.

"Not your fault," the girl said, wiping her nose.

Then something struck Ace. "You're… you're his _daughter?"_

She shrugged. "No idea, really. He won't tell me who my parents are. But he's raised me since before I can remember, so I sort of think of him as my father. He hates it when I call him Dad, though. Always insists I call him 'the Doctor'. I mean, _sheesh._"

"What's your name?" asked Ace. She liked kids this age.

"Freddie," said the girl, "don't you dare laugh."

"Not me," said Ace. "My real name's Dorothy." They shuddered in unison. "Call me Ace," said Ace. They shook hands, solemnly. "What's yours like?" Ace asked, waving in the Doctor's general direction as he went back inside the TARDIS, muttering something about checking the instruments.

"Insane," said Freddie. "Tall and skinny. Got the most crazy blonde hair you've ever seen, ever. Likes wearing green suits, and I'm talking electric green. I can never tell what he's thinking."

"I know how that feels," Ace said with feeling. "Not on the tall and skinny count. That's… weird. But the bloody ineffable part."

They nodded, sadly.

Just then a rather attractive man arrived from some unspecified direction, running and panting. "Freddie!" he called, then skidded to a stop. "Doctor?" he asked.

"Inside the big blue box," Ace said. "Hello."

He kissed her hand gallantly. "Captain Jack Harkness, at your service, and _who _are _you?" _he asked, looking up into her eyes.

"Stop it," Freddie said warningly.

Ace giggled. "I don't mind," she said. To the gallant man, she said, "I'm Ace."

"Enchanted," he said, dropping her hand. "Is the Doctor-"

"Forget it," Freddie told him, "he's not the right one. Too early."

"I was hoping he was a future one," Captain Jack Harkness said to Ace, "so I could look forward to meeting you again."

"I'm sure it could be arranged," she said, putting on a faux aristocratic accent.

"That would be delightful," he said, as the Doctor came back out. A cloud passed over his face as he and the Doctor exchanged a look Ace couldn't decipher at all, and then the Doctor nodded.

Turning to Ace, the Doctor said, "Come on, Ace. We're all charged up. How does Alpha Centauri sound?"

"Sure," she said, looking at Jack.

The gallant man winked and then took Freddie's hand. "Come on, darling."

"All right, Uncle Jack," the girl replied, and they walked away.

_"Ace!" _Ace said quietly as soon as they were out of earshot. Then she followed the Doctor into the TARDIS, and it dematerialized noisily.

As soon as it did, a woman on a motorbike stuck her head around the side of the sculpture. When she was sure they were gone, she wheeled her bike out and watched Freddie and Jack as they turned and ran back to where the TARDIS had been standing. She saw as they used the invisible lift, ignoring the perception filter around it. Oddly enough, neither Freddie nor Jack noticed her, which might have had something to do with the bike and the industrial-strength perception filter she'd installed in it. She ran a hand through her hair, which was really brown but sometimes looked a bit yellow in the sun.

"Interesting," she said.

* * *


	12. What?

**Dedicated to Lemondrop xxx, for giving me this fantastic idea. I'm sorry, I tried to put in chocolate, but it was just too insane by then. **

* * *

"Oh, my god, you are _insane!" _Caroline shrieked, bursting into laughter.

"I most certainly am not!" the Doctor said, affronted. They were sitting in front of the TARDIS, watching the smoke clear. Caroline noticed, suddenly, that the Doctor was still holding her hand. She didn't mind, though. She turned and looked directly at him. God, he was attractive. And funny, don't forget funny. And he was an alien. With a spaceship. My god.

"So, where you come from, Mars or wherever, is it _normal _to kidnap young women and blow up their jobs?"

He looked away. "Not really, no."

He was the sensitive type, too. Didn't want to talk about his home. Maybe he'd run away or something. She always did fancy a rebel. "Are all Time Lords as crazy as you?" she said, looking into his eyes, artfully letting her bleached blond hair fall across her face, widening her eyes, and affecting a cute, innocent sort of accent.

He looked back, and leaned forward almost imperceptibly. She seized her chance and leaned forward too, their faces growing closer and closer…

…and then he jumped up, pulling her up too. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Oi!"

The Doctor clasped her hand in his hands. "Caroline," he said seriously, "would you like to travel with me?"

_Yes! _she yelled inwardly, but outwardly she made herself look uncertain. "Is it always this dangerous?" she asked, widening her eyes again.

He grinned. God, he really was very attractive. "Yep."

She appeared to hesitate, and then said excitedly, "Oh my god, I'd _love _to!"

"Yay!" he said, hugging her. Then he started unlocking the TARDIS door. Caroline said, "You never answered my question. Are all Time Lords this crazy?" She giggled.

He looked down at her with sadness in his eyes. "Caroline, I lied to you. There aren't any Time Lords any more. They're all gone. I'm the only one." His voice wavered and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"I wouldn't bet on that," said a caustic voice from behind them.

Caroline jumped, and swung around. She saw three women standing a few feet away, their expressions arranged in variations on an irritated theme. The one in front had red hair and looked like she was ready to slap someone. The tall, glamorous one to her right had an expression of mildly annoyed amusement. The teenager to the red-head's left looked like she'd stepped from the pages of a teenage fashion magazine, and she was merely frowning.

The Doctor saw them, and made an incoherent 'herk' kind of sound.

"Ready to kidnap another innocent woman?!" shrieked the red-haired one in front. She looked hard at Caroline, and shrugged. "Somewhat innocent, anyways."

"Hello, darling," said the tall, glamorous one. She walked up and wrapped an arm around the Doctor's shoulders in a rather seductive way. "Got over me pretty fast, I see."

"Is this an old flame of yours?!" Caroline inquired angrily of the Time Lord.

He looked dazed. "Romana?" he asked the glamorous woman.

"Who else, dearest?"

"I- I- I- you're alive! And... but... you regenerated! How-"

She stepped back, frowning. "You've gotten a bit slow, haven't you?" She waved at the red-haired woman. "He's all yours, Donna."

The red haired lady slapped him. Really hard. Caroline was surprised she didn't knock his teeth out. "What was that for?" he asked in an injured tone.

"What was that for?! _What was that for?! _That, spaceman, was for sucking out my memories and dumping me on Earth, _ya looney!"_

"What?" Caroline asked.

The teenage fashion model spoke now, for the first time. "How ya doin', Dad?" she asked cheerfully.

Caroline shrieked, _"Dad?! _You can't be more than fifteen years older than her!"

The girl winked. "We're aliens, y'know."

"Oh my god!" She backed away.

"Caroline, no! You don't understand!" he said desperately.

"I don't think I want to!"

Romana said, in a condescending tone of voice, "You see, your Doctor's actually over a thousand years old."

"I so am not! Nine hundred and four, at the most," said the Doctor bemusedly.

Caroline reeled from this latest revelation. Then she slapped the Doctor too, as hard as she could, although not quite with Donna's strength, and yelled, "You pervert!"

"Caroline, you don't understand! Really you don't!"

"See you around, Martian," she said, and took off.

Jenny grinned. "I like her," she said.

"_I _don't," Romana muttered. "Bleached little chav."

"I'm detecting a tone of _jealousy," _commented Donna.

"Yeah right!"

The Doctor sank to the ground, leaning against his TARDIS. There was only one thing that could be said, in a situation like this.

"What?!"

* * *


	13. Dialogue

**Andi and James belong to the great The Chibi's Are Stalking Me. Fred and David belong to me. The rest belongs to the BBC.**

* * *

"Oh, this is just _great."_

"Look, who are you, anyways?"

"The name's David. David Campbell. The sarcastic pessimistic girl is Fred. Sometimes we call her Freddie."

"Charmed, I'm sure. I'm Andi. Where the hell are we?"

"I don't know! I mean, we were just minding our own business when suddenly we were teleported into this place, wherever here is. I don't understand how it even happened- we've got shields, it should have been impossible to-"

"Andi?"

"James! James, I'm over here!"

"Andi!"

"Friend of yours?"

"David, may I introduce James Grayson?"

"How do you do? I'd shake your hand, but it's too dark to see it."

"Err... okay."

"This darkness is rather oppressive, isn't it? Good thing I'm not claustrophobic."

_"Everyone shut up!"_

"..."

"...is that your friend Fred?"

"...yes, I'm afraid she is rather claustrophobic. Once when she was three she accidentally shut herself in the washing machine. Took us five hours to get her out."

_"...I'm going to kill you, David..."_

"Sorry, old girl."

_"...you only know that story because the Doctor told you. You weren't even there!"_

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...you know the Doctor?"

"...well, we know _a _Doctor. Knew, I mean. It's probably not the same guy."

"How do you know?"

"Well, _our _Doctor's been dead for three years."

"Ah."

"Yes."

"Not the same guy, then."

"No."

"Not some insane time-traveling Time Lord with bucketfuls of existential angst and a habit of picking up girls, then."

"...er..."

"Couldn't be."

"...when I say _dead, _I mean we_ think _he's dead... I mean, we never went back and checked..."

_"Who cares? He was a jerk."_

"Yes, thank you, Fred."

"Excuse me, he's my _dad."_

"...oh."

"What?"

"...I think you're my great-aunt."

"WHAT?!"

_"Heeheeheehee."_

"Fred, you're being creepy."

_"Sorry. It's the claustrophobia. I think we should try and get out of here now."_

"Good idea. I'll just get out my-"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"We ALL have sonic screwdrivers?"

"I don't. She keeps saying she'll make me one, but somehow she never seems to find the time."

"Er, sorry, James. It's kind of a Timelordy thing."

"Yeah, right!"

"Hey, I can kind of see where we are now!"

"We're... wait a second, we're on the T-"

"..."

"..."

"..."

_"..."_

"...Dad?"

_"Uh-oh..."_


	14. AU

**Just a weird little idea of mine that I'm wondering if I should expand into a story. It's basically a pretty simple alternate universe thingy. Feedback?**

* * *

"I'd run if I were you," said a dry voice behind her. Rose turned, and saw a woman in a white dress offering her hand. "Shall we be off?"

Rose glanced back at the approaching walking shop dummies. "Don't want to hang around here, that's for sure."

The stranger smiled. "Come on then."

They ran, hand in hand.

* * *

"Look, who are you?"

She smiles tightly. "I told you, I'm the Doctor."

"Yeah, but Doctor What?"

The smile stretches tighter. "Just the Doctor."

"Is that supposed to sound impressive?"

She appears to consider it for a moment. "Yes."

It's weird, but Rose has seen a lot of weird stuff by now and she doesn't inquire further.

* * *

"Oh, they just want to overthrow the human race and destroy you."

Rose stares, not sure if she's joking or not. She says such weird things, and smiles, and Rose can't for the life of her tell when the Doctor's being serious. "No."

"But you're still listening," the Doctor says, and smiles that eccentric smile. She walks a bit further down the pavement, but Rose is suddenly tired of the games.

"No, but really, Doctor," she says. "Tell me. Who are you?"

The Doctor stops, and turns, and suddenly it's like she's having an out-of-body experience, because she can see herself, a teenager in a hoodie and a fashionably ripped t-shirt, standing in a sunlit lane, so _normal _and _small, _but a few inches away from her feet the ground opens into a bottomless chasm.

Then the moment is gone, and the Doctor smiles a different sort of smile, and says, "I'm an alien. D'you want to see my spaceship?"

* * *

They've saved the day, and Rose is high on adrenaline. "You were useless in there, you'd be dead if it wasn't for me!"

"Yes," the Doctor says, simply. "I would. Although Mickey helped, a bit."

Rose glanced scornfully at her quivering boyfriend, who'd been overcome by the excitement. "That useless lump?"

The Doctor took a deep breath, and tucked her blond hair behind one ear. "I think perhaps... I owe you something."

"S'all right," Rose says cheerfully, and yet she finds herself involuntarily taking a step forward.

"I thought perhaps... you might like to come with me?"

_Yes, _Rose thinks, _oh yes, yes. _But... she pushes the thought away. "Is it always this dangerous?"

The gleeful smile. "Oh, yes."

"I can't," she says regretfully, giving in to the thought that's been badgering her, going on about responsibility and all that rot. "I've got to go and find my mum, and someone's got to look after the useless lump."

Mickey shot her a glare.

"But you can," says the Doctor, her gleeful grin widening. "You can do all that and come with me, too."

"What?"

The Doctor leans back against the blue wooden box that is so much more on the inside, and says, smugly, "Did I mention it can also travel in time?"

Rose swallows, her heart full of hope. "Don't think you did, no," she says, treating the Doctor to a grin of her own.

"Don't go," pleads Mickey.

Rose kisses him quite chastely on the cheek. "Thanks for nothing," she says, and runs through the open TARDIS door, hair streaming behind her. The Doctor grins at Mickey, and shuts the door. There is a sound like a dying hairdryer, and they are gone.

Mickey thinks about this a while.

Finally he says, "I think she's gay."

* * *

**What do you guys think? Story-worthy? The TARDIS team would eventually include Rose, Martha, Donna, and Jack. There would be quite a bit of unresolved romantic tension, too. :D Because I read a couple of Romana/Rose stories over on Teaspoon and they were actually really good. O.o**


	15. Mission Accomplished

The Doctor looked down at the instrument panels in distress. "What?" he said in his usual befuddled manner.

"Doctor..." Rose said, gesturing over his shoulder.

He turned, to see a petite, stunning blond with large, alluring eyes, wearing a... errr... shiny sparkly white ball dress.

_"Jo?" _he said in a stunned voice.

But it couldn't be... last time he'd seen Jo, she'd been an old, shriveled, bitter lady who had a million cats and constantly complained about her divorce and her social security.

"Who's Jo?" Rose asked, and he turned to enlighten her. As he stared into his young companion's face, however, he was abruptly overwhelmed by her innocence, her frailty, and the way she wore way too much eye shadow...

"Oi!" the not-Jo called, and he swung back around. His former assistant looked as stunning as she had forty years ago. "Don't you want to know why I'm here?" she asked sweetly, in a voice like small silver bells chiming.

"Uh... sure," the Doctor said, captivated by her youthful charm.

"I'm here, Doctor, because I am secretly a Time Lady!"

"_What?!_"

Rose looked just as stunned.

"That's right! I was only fifteen when Gallifrey was destroyed, but I was already the smartestest student in the Academy, and besides, everyone loved me because I was so sweet and innocent, and so they fob-watched me into being a human baby and I was placed on Earth in the care of loving parents! But they died, and I was put into an orphanage, where everyone was so mean to me! sniff But I escaped, and joined a traveling circus!"

"But that's completely against canon!" Rose protested.

"Shut up! So anyway, I loved you deeply, Doctor, but you were too old for me! But then after you left, I found this old watch in my attic, and opened it, and now here I am! You're not the last Time Lord! Isn't that great? And you're really much younger and better-looking now, so we can repopulate the Time Lord race! Won't that be fun?"

The Doctor just stood there with his mouth open.

"Don't you agree, dearest?"

"No he doesn't, you !" Rose shrieked. The Doctor stared at this newest development, as his soft, beautiful, heart-breaking companion transformed into a screaming profane harpy with long fingernails. "I was here first!! He's mine!!"

Jo smiled evilly. "My dear, you're just a Canon!Sue. I, however- I am a _self-insertion."_

"No!" wailed Rose, as Jo transformed into a pimply teenage girl with a laptop. "It can't be!"

"You've lost," the Fanfic Writer hissed as she typed a few sentences.

* * *

"Oh, Jo," the Doctor said dreamily. "I'm just so happy I'm not alone!"

"My Time Lady name's not Jo," Not-Jo explained. "It's Sapphire Diamondstar Magenta."

"That's a beautiful name," he said, looking deeply into his beloved's shimmering green eyes. "Didn't you used to have brown eyes, Sapphire Diamondstar Magenta?"

"Where's that poor, ugly human girl who was here?" Sapphire asked, her green eyes filled with concern, like deep, calm pools of algae-covered water.

"Oh, I couldn't let her get between us, Sapphire. I gave the poor girl an easy let-down, then dumped her in Torchwood."

"She won't last the day there," Sapphire said sadly, though her beautiful green emerald eyes glimmered with hidden malice. "Oh well. Now we have to repopulate the species! It's our sacred duty!"

The Doctor's eyes glazed over. "That sounds like fun!" he said, a mind-controlled zombie.

Sapphire pulled out a walkie talkie.

"Mission Accomplished."


	16. The Mistress of the Magical Bus

Disclaimer: Donna belongs to RTD. Iris belongs to the mysterious 'Paul Magyrs', whose true identity is unknown... O.o

* * *

Donna was out doing some shopping when she saw the woman for the first time.

The woman was sitting on a park bench, smoking with a vengeance. People were making large circles around her in order to avoid the absurdly large clouds of noxious smoke.

At first glance, the woman looked remarkably like Jane Fonda. But after a swift calculation in her head Donna decided that Jane Fonda was in her seventies, and there was no way this woman could be that old. Early fifties, maybe. Then again, you never knew with celebrities. Donna doubted Jane Fonda would have worn an outfit like that, though. Very skimpy pink thing, with a texture like crocodile skin. Disgraceful. Donna would have to mention it to Neirys, once they started speaking to each other again.

When she looked again the woman was gone.

* * *

Listening to her mother drone on and on about how she ought to make something of her life, Donna happened to glance out the window. The same woman from a week ago was standing out in the street, waving. Behind her was an extremely battered London bus, Number 22.

Donna shook her head to try and get rid of the buzzing in her ears.

When she looked again the woman was gone.

* * *

"Well, look, Donna, if you don't find Mr. Right soon then I don't know when you ever will, I mean, you're not twenty-five any more, are you?"

Donna focused her eyes on her living room. There was someone looking remarkably like Jane Fonda sitting on her mother's sofa, grinning and cracking nuts with her teeth. Her costume was now green. and if possible even skimpier than before.

"Sorry, I'll call you later," Donna said slowly, hanging up.

"Ello, dearie," the Jane Fonda look-alike said warmly with a strong cockney accent. "I was wonderin' if you could help poor little me with somethin'."

"What do you want?" Donna asked.

The look-alike handed her a grainy printout of a photograph. "Ever seen this bloke?"

He was brown, and stripy, and he had really great hair.

"Who are you?" Donna said, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

"The name's Iris, dearie," she said. "Iris Wildthyme."

"Pleased to meet you," Donna said weakly.

Then she fainted.

* * *

Yes, I am aware that I rather mixed up several incarnations of Iris, but the end result was definitely Irisy, so I'm happy. Besides, no one except The-Chibis-Are-Stalking-Me and I seem to know about her anyway.


	17. Retrocontinuity

**Wow. Over fifty reviews... wow. You guys are truly awesome.**

**Anyway, this is a bit more serious than usual. You don't _really _need to know the Gallifrey audio plays to get this, but you should probably know that Neeloc is this Time Lord kid who's obsessed with the Doctor, and that President Romana opened the Academy up to alien students, and Neeloc had a friend who was an Earth student who died. **

**This was inspired by a really good story on Teaspoon, _Looked Up In Perfect Silence at the Stars. _Go check it out immediately. Well, not immediately. Read my story first. **

* * *

"That was a good speech you gave just now."

He looked up into the eyes of a red-haired woman with eyes holding tragedy and strength in equal measure. "Oh," he said. "You're Taylor's mum. He talked a lot about you."

She smiled. "Did he?" She blinked. "I just wanted to say thank you. Coming here... it means a lot to us. Nilock, you said your name was?"

"Neeloc, ma'am," he corrected. "And you really don't have to thank me. I was just doing what Taylor would have wanted me to do."

A young girl with great masses of strawberry blond hair ran up to them. "Mommy, I'm tired! Can we go now?"

"Soon, my darling," the woman soothed, picking her up. To Neeloc, she asked, "Have you a place to stay?"

"Yes, I'm quite all right," he replied.

"Well, you'll always be welcome in our home," she told him. "Will you be on Earth long?"

He didn't really want to answer that question, but she deserved a truthful answer, so he said slowly, "I think so. There's nothing for me back home, anyway. And I'd like to show people Time Lords aren't all bad."

He walked with them out of the cemetery, making light conversation. It surprised him that none of Taylor's family had the same lilting accent he had. "It's because we moved to America, after Taylor went to an offworld university," she explained. "We haven't- hadn't seen him in five years. If you were more familiar with humans, you could hear the accent still, I'm sure."

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

They walked quietly through the streets of the peaceful suburb. Neeloc looked around in frank fascination. Earth was so... so _alive, _so _varied, _compared to Gallifrey. No wonder Taylor had hated it at the Academy. _Oh, Taylor. I'm here, on Earth, at last. I thought it would make me feel closer to you. But all it does is make me realize... what idiots we Time Lords really are._

Neeloc started.

He could feel something he hadn't expected... the faint but subtle electric buzz of the Blinovitch Limitation. There were time travelers near, and they were doing something they weren't supposed to.

He didn't say anything to Taylor's mother. She was human. She'd think he was mad.

The buzzing was getting stronger.

They rounded the corner, at the same time as two other people came out of a shop.

Neeloc stared.

One of them was a human adolescent female, with the same strawberry blond hair as the little girl, braided demurely. It _was _the little girl. Only perhaps ten years older. That was what had been causing the buzzing. She was telling her companion, "This is the day of my brother's funeral." Her companion... was a Time Lord. Neeloc could feel him, his shock, radiating out like ripples in a lake. He knewthis Time Lord's biosignature. It was the Doctor, and that would normally be enough to leave him flabbergasted, but... it wasn't the _right _Doctor, the eighth one, nor was it any of the others, it was a _future _one, tall, skinny, and brown, and all his barriers were down, and the way he was _staring_ at Neeloc, in shock and pain...

Neeloc tried to ignore the truth, but that was his brain, wasn't it, a Time Lord brain, and a damn bright one at that, busy busy busy, putting together the pieces, presenting him with the truth, shouting it out to the world...

_But there's so much left to do, _he whispered to whatever might be listening. _I was going to walk the Earth, see sunsets and forests and rainbows and robins, I was going to make a difference, maybe even stop a few alien invasions or so, save some lives, and at the end, I was going to find the Doctor, and we'd go to some human food place- they're called cafes, aren't they- and we'd have hot caffeinated drinks and let the drugs work on our systems, and just talk and talk, and I'd tell him about Taylor, and he'd understand... _

The world was spinning so fast beneath his feet, and the Doctor's eyes were dark with compassion. _Goodbye. And thanks._

_ I'm sorry._

* * *

"Doctor?" Aideen said. She snapped her fingers. "Dude, snap out of it!"

Her alien best friend was staring at a patch of air, that appeared, to her mortal eyes, exactly the same as every other patch. He was also standing in the middle of the road, right where a car, speeding round the turn, could hit him, forcing Aideen to deal with a whole new exasperating personality, if what he'd told her was true.

She sighed. She wasn't even sure why they were still here. She'd just wanted to pop down to the shops for some milk, and _not _weird alien milk, _cow _milk, from the place she'd gotten it as a kid. But then the Doc had insisted on traipsing around the place. Beat her why. Boredom capitol of the universe. But he better snap out of it soon, or he'd feel the heat of her Irish temper. _"Doctor!"_

He turned to look at her, an unreadable expression in his wide brown eyes. "Aidan," he asked, with unusual solemnity, "do you have a brother?"

She frowned. What alien rubbish was this now? "Yeah," she said, "but who cares about him? He's just some idiot who hangs around in pubs, arguin' about how the world sucks but never doin' a thing about it. Went to offworld university for a few months, didn't like it. Now we're stuck with the useless lump."

"Ah," he said mysteriously.

"C'mon, dude, let's quit this dump!"

"Yes," he said, to himself, "yes, that would be a good idea."

He glanced backwards only once.


	18. Forever

**Sorry it's been so long, but I was kind of freaked out when one of my stories got deleted for no apparent reason.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.**

* * *

Forever: Or, Four Time Ladies And A Double-Decker Bus

* * *

"Doctor, I want you to take me home."

"What?" The Doctor stuck his head up from under the floor where he'd been tinkering once again with the TARDIS. Funny, he seemed to find himself doing that a lot lately. "For heaven's sake, why?"

Rose sighed, looking at his wide puppy-dog eyes and messy hair, so exactly the same as the day she'd first seen him. "I just can't do this any more, Doctor. Gallivanting around the place irresponsibly is fine when you're a lovelorn teenager, but in case you hadn't noticed, I'm getting on a bit."

"Really?" the Doctor said, squinting. True, she'd been looking a bit more bleached an painted lately, but he'd thought she was just trying to attract his attention. "I hadn't noticed."

"Doctor," said Rose, looking rather like she was going to slap him again (that seemed to be happening a lot more often as well) "I'm ****-ing _forty-six._"

"So?" said the Doctor. "That's not old at all. You'd be a little, wittle baby on my planet. Aww, baby Time Lord Rose, how cute!"

After a moment considering this disturbing image, Rose continued. "I get pains in my back when we run from aliens. Dashing young men are more likely to fall in love with _you _than with me. And don't tell me that was just a native custom, that guy back on the swamp planet was definitely flirting with you."

The Doctor shrugged. He couldn't help it that he was just so damn attractive.

"I've thought about this a lot, and I can't stay. So I'd be much obliged if you'd drop me back on Earth."

"Well, I'm proud of you for making a tough decision," the Time Lord said, setting the coordinates.

_"What?"_ Rose shrieked, dropping her bag in order to yell at him better. "That's _it? _What about all that 'I want you to stay with me forever' guff?"

"We-ell," her erstwhile traveling companion replied, pulling levers absentmindedly, "I'm just glad you came right out and said it. No hard feelings all round. Much better than when Tegan left me. She was whining all the time. So what if some people die? That's life, I say. Don't know why I ever liked her. Then there was Ace. Said I was too manipulative. Romana said I was holding her back. Holding her back! Ha! If it wasn't for me, she'd never have amounted to anything except maybe some boring high official! Of course I did kill her along with the planet later, but still. Then there was Leela and Peri and Jo. They were the really attractive ones. Left because they'd 'fallen in love' with someone who was just like me, only younger and more responsible. Then there was Mel, but quite frankly I was glad to see her go. She kept trying to get me on a diet. Me, a 900-year-old Time Lord, on a diet! The nerve! And then Grace. Stupid Grace. Kissed me and then said she wasn't brave enough to come. That was just great. Using me like that. And then there was Fitz. Ah, dear Fitz. He was quite brilliant, and he played the guitar. That leather jacket used to be his. Smoked and drank. Kept splitting into parallel universe Fitz's or something, I never could keep track. So-" He broke off at the look on Rose's face. It was very lucky for him that the TARDIS took off just then, or else he probably would have gotten the smack of his life.

After the spaceship had finished rocking, Rose picked up her bag and walked to the door. She turned to face the Doctor one last time. "You, Doctor," she pronounced, "are an idiot." Then she walked out, slamming the door behind her.

The Doctor stared for a moment, and shrugged. "That's a new one," he said as his TARDIS took off again, bound for the Magellanic Cloud.

Outside, Rose discovered that instead of being in London 2034 AD like she'd expected, she was somewhere with two suns and a great grassy plain with a dense tropical rainforest on the horizon. She sat down on a convenient rock, and laughed, and then weeped, and then took out her kit and reapplied her makeup. After that she stared out over the plain and thought of what she'd do to the Doctor if she ever saw him again.

She waited five and a half hours, just in case.

Five hours and thirty-three minutes after the Doctor had left her, she heard the familiar wheezing sound, and turned with a mixture of joy and rage to see...

... a materializing red double-decker bus, number 22.

The doors opened, and four blond women stepped out.

The first was even older than Rose but was definitely drop-dead glamorous and wearing an outfit that should have been illegal. She was also wearing a huge grin. "Need a lift, dearie?" she cackled, shaking out her long blond tresses.

The second also had long hair. She wore a slightly more modest but still very revealing red dress. Her eyes were dead and cold. "Please tell me we're not picking up _another _stupid human," she said dryly.

The third had hair that was just as blond and long but she was about half their height. She had a girlish, innocent look and wore an antique-looking white dress. When she spoke, however, her voice was very dry and intelligent. "Another abandoned companion, eh? My, he does tend to leave them about the place wherever he goes."

The fourth was clearly very young and wide-eyed and vivacious. She had some kind of army uniform on. "I'm not stupid!" she said to the one in the red dress. "And I'm not human, either! I'm, like, a clone or something!"

"Same difference," the one in the red dress replied.

Rose said weakly, "Hello."

The glamorous one stepped forward. "How'd you like to travel with us for a while, darling?" She extended a hand with hot-pink painted nails.

Rose looked at the hand. "Not forever," she warned.

"Definitely not," agreed the glamorous lady.

Rose shook her hand firmly. The lady laughed. "Well then, welcome aboard! Jenny, be a dear, go get us some drinks, will you? Not for yourself, mind; you're too young."

"Whatever," the teen mumbled, and slouched off.

Rose decided this could be fun.

* * *


	19. End of the World

**In the same universe as 'AU'. Still interested? I'm wondering if I should make it its own story.**

**Disclaimer: If I was Mr. Moffat, I'd be a better writer.**

* * *

"So, where would you like to go?" the Doctor asks, standing by the console. She looks tense, nervous, and she sounds like she's reading from a mental script. "This machine isn't just an instant airplane, you know; there's many different worlds out there."

"You mean... there are other aliens?" Rose asks. "Not just your people?"

"Well, yes," the Doctor says, laughing, "though they like to pretend otherwise."

"Take me somewhere... _spectacular_," Rose says wildly, laughing too. "Take me to the ends of the Earth."

"Your wish is my command," she says, and she's off, spinning things and pressing them, moving with a very precise grace. The column goes up and down, and there's a bit of creaking, but other than that Rose couldn't tell they were moving at all. She looks around at the interior of the TARDIS. "Bit gothic, isn't it? Kind of gloomy."

"It is, isn't it?" said the Doctor, frowning at the nearest column. "I don't know why I haven't changed it yet. Sentimental, probably. Well, some wallpaper should fix that! We can do it when we get back!" She's so _chirpy, _Rose thinks, at least when she's not all tight and nervous. And she's waaay shorter than me.

The column's stopped moving. "Where are we?"

The Doctor smiles and gestures. "See for yourself."

Rose walks out into a brown-paneled room. "Oh," she says, trying not to sound disappointed.

The Doctor laughs at her, and flashes her sonic screwdriver at a panel. Suddenly, part of the wall rises, and she's left staring at the Earth. The Earth as seen from space. It's... glittering, and huge, and _beautiful. _But.. it's also wrong. Something's different. After a moment she realizes that what's different is the sun. It's huge, and red, and malevolent. As she watches it flashes orange and expands.

"The end of the earth, as commanded," the Doctor told her. "Five billion years in your future."


	20. JE Truth Part One

_In my opinion, this is the reason Journey's End ended like it did._

* * *

The first day, they went to Barcelona- the planet Barcelona- and ended up stopping a mad genius from genetically engineering super-warrior dogs with no noses. Well, actually Donna did most of the stopping, joyfully yelling technobabble as she went. By the end the mad genius was pretty much just standing there with his mouth hanging open as she yelled at him. The Doctor watched with a slight smile on his face.

The first night, Donna dreamed of the death of planets. Of the fall of Arcadia. Of war.

"How do you bear it?" she asked the Doctor when he came in and sat at the foot of her bed, unusually quiet for once.

He looked up at her and grinned. It wasn't a very reassuring grin, she thought, seeing herself reflected in the dark pits of his eyes. "I don't sleep."

The second day they visited the planet of the butterfly people and didn't correct the butterflies when the insects assumed they were a couple. "The DoctorDonna, that's us," they chorused cheerfully in tandem.

Donna cooked a Tercerian meal for dinner that night.

The next morning the Doctor looked up from where he was tinkering with the console to find her staring at him with accusing eyes.

"You abandoned her," Donna said.


	21. Leaves

**...wow. I... I'm really sorry about this. It is SERIOUSLY dark and weird. In my defense, I think I wrote it while sick home with a fever reading _House of Leaves, _so... please, I apologize. Don't get too freaked out, please???**

**Also: review again, please please please! I'm starting to feel lonely here!**

* * *

You're staring at me with those wide human eyes, a puzzle I can't decipher. It's always this way. I can never understand it. With Leela, it was peace and some great cosmic understanding, with Ace, a sort of general anger at the entire world, and with you, it's something else. I don't know what.

I don't have time for this.

Like them, you hate me. Hate me for not understanding. For being 'alien'. Can't you see that you're the real alien? The inexplicable?

You love me too, and that's the most infuriating thing of all.

* * *

I find you in the library, not reading anything, which frankly is not that big a surprise. I look at you. I love every detail of your clothes, your posture, your humanity.

You're saying something. "I'm not much of a reader," you're saying.

I wait, patiently.

"I'm not a scientist. I'm not a Friend To All Living Things. I'm not even very brave, or adventurous."

"You're human."

"What's so special about that?"

* * *

We go all over the place, hot chocolate in the Alps and art galleries on the moons of Rexel Seven, and a good bit of saving the world as well. Only I realize I'm the one dragging you along. You don't seem to mind though.

We stay up late watching movies. All sorts of movies. Black and white and soundless and abstract and holographic, from Earth and Barcelona the planet and Lucifer.

Sometimes the world-saving doesn't go too well and then you just go straight to bed. I stay up rereading H. G. Welles, wishing I dared to fall asleep.

* * *

"What are you running away from?"

You look back at me, level over your cup of tea. How delightfully British. "I could ask the same of you."

I smile, briefly, mirthlessly. "Nothing. I'm running away from nothing."

Your tea is the color of entropy.

I think I'm getting tired, or old, or something.

* * *

Sometimes at night when the books don't seem as comforting, I walk soundlessly down the long corridors of the TARDIS and my mind. It's endless and labyrinthine. There are staircases that lead nowhere, and windows into blackness. Sometimes I hear things growling in the distance.

There are blank spaces, too. Things I cannot remember. Rather a lot of them. Sometimes I fancy they are growing. Expanding. Creeping, with tendrils. And leafy dark green vines.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I'm surprised by my own face. As though I'm expecting to be someone else. Someone younger, I think, with lighter hair and brilliant, terrifying eyes.

* * *

I don't like being in the TARDIS much any more.

* * *

What I like is adventures. Running, with you at my side, holding your hand, excited and glad to be alive for once, doing something good, something right, that's what I enjoy. And if sometimes it doesn't turn out all that well, that's life, right?

Today our shopping spree in a mall in twentieth century Belfast was interrupted by a bombing and you could have been killed but you didn't look like you cared about that, what you cared about was that I _couldn't do anything; _laws of time and all that. Well, screw them. Who gives a damn! What does it matter, anymore?!

It matters because your planet is still there, even if mine's not. There are still people worth protecting. I have to try very hard to remember this.

We get home and I expect you to go straight into your room and blast rock music as usual on bad days but instead you make tea and then sit in one of the old Victorian armchairs in the console room, your tea in front of you, that damn inexplicable look on your face.

I sit down too. You pour me some tea. I swirl it gently with my spoon but otherwise don't touch it. You start to talk.

* * *

One time I asked Ace why she was fighting. She laughed and said, "It's funny, really. I hate the rules and I hate you guys who make the rules. So I'm fighting because you guys have to be there to make the rules so I can hate you."

I didn't get it.

I can't remember what happened to her, but I don't think it was funny.

* * *

"It was an explosion, you see. Like that one. A few weeks before we met. A department store... part of a chain called Henrick's. You've probably never heard of it. A stupid human thing.'

"But there was a girl who worked there. Her name was Rose Tyler."

* * *

Someone told me once to always expect the unexpected. Whoever they were, it was good advice. Pity I never follow it.

* * *

"She was no one, really. Just an ordinary teenager. Failed her high school exams. Didn't really have any aspirations. Not special, really. Except she was. She was magnificent. She was brave and adventurous and sweet and accepting and kind. She got the most out of life. If life is a party, she was in there jazzing to her own music.'

"It should have been her, traveling with you. Not me."

* * *

Ah. I remember now. It was the Doctor. Funny I couldn't remember before. I can remember lots of other things about him. His smile. The way that every face I knew him in, he had curly hair.

The way he went completely insane the week before the end.

Yeah, actually, I don't really want to remember that.

* * *

Mickey is still talking. I try to listen, but the words seem meaningless. He's looking at me with such calm humanness.

"I know you blew up that store. I know you probably thought there was no one inside. But if you had known... it wouldn't have really mattered to you, would it?"

I have a revelation. It's that we're the same, really. My loss and his. The same. Equal. And look at him. He's fine. He's brilliant, actually. I can't really recall what he was just talking about but look at his face, it's so calm and well-adjusted. So I'm not actually entitled to lose my mind and go running around like a headless chicken. Gracious me.

"Romana? Are you all right? Romana? Can you hear me?"

* * *

"Hello?"


	22. Wondering

_I'm pretty sure my alternate universe WILL become its own story, but I'd like to finish at least up to the first season before I put it up here, since I have a... um... less than spotless record when it comes to finishing stories. I have a pretty good idea about what will happen. It's looking to be pretty dark._

* * *

Sometimes, Jack wonders.

When sometimes his two very attractive rescuers stand silently, lost in some shared memory, when hands are held while running for their lives, the way Rose is so protective, so suspicious and cynical.

When the Doctor looks up into falling snow, not moving, white flakes frosting her long braided hair and eyelashes, her skin so pale it's almost blue, her colorless eyes not reflecting, not absorbing, not... looking.

Sometimes he wonders just what happened to them before he walked in.

Most of the time, though, he doesn't.

* * *

"You don't like my mum very much, do you," Rose said, trying not to laugh and not really succeeding. The Doctor was at her most alien and haughty, graciously sipping a cup of tea she obviously considered inferior to the Time Lord sort.

Rose's friend wrinkled her nose. "She's just so... human. Ugh."

Rose giggled. "If you hate us so much, why d'you bother to save our asses so much?"

The Doctor smiled, slightly, gloriously. "Well, someone has to."

* * *

Martha refuses to let go of the Doctor, delighting in the velvety texture of her dress, the smell of her perfume, her just being alive and there. "I'm nothing special."

The Doctor frowns at her reprovingly. "Of course you are, Martha Jones, you are incredibly brilliant and you know it."

Now it's Martha's turn to frown as a memory slips past. _You're brilliant, Martha Jones, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. _"He said that."

"Who did?" says the Doctor indulgently.

"The man- I- I can't remember, it's all a blur-"

"He's not real," the Doctor says, soothingly, stroking her hair. "He never existed."

"No, but he mentioned you," Martha says, struggling to remember, "and Jack and Rose-"

"Parallel selves. All gone now."

"No, but he talked about parallel universes-"

The Doctor freezes, suddenly. Worried, Martha looks up into distant alien eyes. "Martha, what did he look like- no, scratch that- what was his name?"

"He called himself the Doctor. Like you, except... um... a guy."

The Doctor gets up and paces, shoulders hunched, hands picking nervously at her lacy sleeves. "What did he say?" She turns, and there is madness in her eyes. "Martha, _what did he say?!!"_

"I can't remember-" the way the Doctor is looking is scaring her- "um, no, wait, I remember- he said a word-"

_"What words? What were they? What did he say?!!"_

Martha closes her eyes, tries to breathe deep, and tells her.


	23. Flying Buses there can't be TWO!

_Hello, y'all! I am back, with a more lighthearted offering this time! Just saw Planet of the Dead, and I just HAD to write this. C'mon, you know you were thinking it too._

_EDIT: So, yeah, I turned the 'female Doctor' thing into its own story. You can find it on my profile, it's called 'Days Like Crazy Paving' and it's up to three chapters now. (shameless self promotion)  
_

"Heee- yaahh!" Christina yelled as she revved the bus into action. With a protesting grumbling it lurched into the air, motor screaming. Through the rear-view mirror Christina could see the security guards piling onto the roof, but without helicopters there was no way they could come after her. She stuck her arm out the window and made a rude gesture. "OH YEAH!"

Suddenly, the protesting bus made a vworp vworp sound and jolted forward- and sudeenly they weren't in the clear blue Parisian sky anymore but rather in some swirling mad psychedelic vortex of doomy doom, getting tossed around like crazy. "AAAAGH!" Christina screamed, the bus' antics throwing her forward across the dashboard. With a burping noise, the bus threw itself out of the vortex and into somewhere bright and sunny and loud, and settled down with a smug kind of contentment.

"Frick!" Lady Christina muttered. "Where the bloody hell are we?" She forced open the door and half jumped, half fell out of the bus. They were in some kind of muddy field, and some kind of concert was going on. Blearily she recognized Janis Joplin's voice... wait. What? Blinking, she looked around. Oh dear. She could recognize it from pictures... She pulled herself back into the bus. "Woodstock?" she whispered loudly. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"Oooh!" said a wheezy old voice from the back of the bus. "Is that dear ole Janis I hear out there? Good old Janis. She gave me a bottle of beer once, and a free record! Much better than a nasty ole coat if you ask me."

"Who's that?" Christina asked. She made her way cautiously towards the back of the bus. "Hello?"

An old lady stuck her head up from behind the back seats. "Oh, hello dearie!" she cackled cheerfully. She was wearing a big red felt hat with what looked like rather crumpled ostrich feathers stuck in. "Now what's a nice young lady like yourself doing on board my old busie?"

"My name is Lady Christina de Souza," Christina announced as regally as she could, "and I wasn't aware it was your bus. I rather thought it was mine." Dropping the regal manner she asked, "And how did you get on it anyway?"

"Never got off," the old lady said cheerfully, getting to her feet with a few pops and groans. "Been back here for mebbe a month, sleeping off that awful hangover."

"A month?" Christina asked, incredulous. "You just slept through the wormhole and that other planet and all my daring flying heists?"

"It was one hell of a hangover," the old woman said wistfully. She held out her hand. "Iris Wildthyme, mistress of the magical bus," she said cheerfully, "nice to meet ya, Lady Christina!"

Christina looked at the hand and didn't take it. "I'm not leaving the bus," she said firmly. "You can't kick me out. The Doctor gave me this bus."

"Oh, just like him!" Iris said, offended. Then she laughed. "What do you do for a living, dearie?"

"Oh, I liberate immensely valuable historical artifacts," she said coolly.

"Oh, excellent!" Iris cackled. "How would you like to be my faithful travelin' companion, Lady Christina?"

Christina thought about it.

"You could liberate stuff from other planets," Iris offered.

"Oh, ok," Christina said. "But you have to let me drive sometimes."

"Only if you're a very good girl," Iris said, plunking herself down in the driver's seat. "Oh, my poor busie, what have they done to you... ah!" Flicking a tiny switch, she got her fingernails under the dashboard and with a heave and a grunt, she swung the entire dashboard out on greased rails, where it folded up and stored itself somewhere. Underneath was a vast array of blinking lights and big red buttons and handy switches. "Here we gooooo!" she cried, pulling a lever, and with an awful groaning screech they threw themselves into the vortex.


	24. JE Truth Part Two

_Aaaand we're back to the angstyness again. I've had this in my head for a while; it's sort of a companion piece to 'JE Truth Part 1'. Because Ten is a jerk. You know it to be true. _

* * *

It was very very easy.

It was also extremely hard.

This is your life now: sitting in the back seat of an old car Jackie bought at a reduced government rate, staring out the window, watching the scenery flash by. Rose's hand in yours. The car smells like a wet dog.

Hours of this.

* * *

Pete and Jake are friendly, but a bit confused. Tony is adorable, but you don't feel up to playing with the baby right now. Jackie gives you an extended tour of the mansion, with a running commentary on each item: she doesn't know why you laughs at the hall carpet. When she's done, you ask her, could she make some of her tea? Of course she could, darling. You sit at a marbled counter, sipping your tea. It tastes awful. Just like you remember. This is your life now: looking at the magnets on the fridge. Where is Rose? you ask. Oh, she's very busy; got a very important job, you know.

Ah, of course, you answer, smiling.

* * *

You rage and scream and yell out your injustices to the stars but they only stare back, cold, indifferent.

It's all about learning. Learning mortality. Learning to be human.

* * *

This is what it's about: waking up in the bathroom with no idea how you got there, and throwing up in the sink and then fainting, crash, bang, hitting your head on the tiled floor and getting a concussion. Pete has to bribe the doctors and you're not sure if you're better or not, you can't remember enough Gallifreyan biology.

* * *

You love Rose, of course you do: more than anything else in this universe. But when you close your eyes at night, you see Romana, smiling at you across a table in a cafe in Paris. You hear Tegan yelling at you, remember the texture of Sarah Jane's hair and the way Ace's eyes light up when you offer her a new adventure. When you look at Tony, you see Susan.

You only have one heart now, and you're not sure if it's enough.

* * *

The people at Torchwood love your knowledge, soak it up, hang on your every word. But when danger threatens, it's Jake and his team who deal with it. When you complain to Rose, she explains, you're too valuable. We can't afford to lose you. And you shiver. No regenerations, no second chances. You're that sort of a man now. It's only you, and this new life, and dreadful mortality looming like a knife.

Sometimes, in the middle of imparting knowledge, you'll trail off, and look puzzled, like you're reaching for something that's suddenly vanished.

* * *

You're aware that there's something wrong with you. Chief among this is the fact that you're half Donna. Sometimes you get so uncontrollably angry, or sad, or insanely happy. Humans _feel _so much, you realize.

If Donna was here, she'd understand, she'd make you feel better just by existing, just by being Donna.

If Romana was here, she'd tell you to stop wallowing and get on with life.

It can't be too difficult: humans do it, after all.

* * *

One day they've called you up to deal with yet another alien invasion (this parallel Earth seems just as much a danger magnet as the original) and you stare at the blurry digital image printouts they hand you and you say, "Oh, Terileptils," and they sigh in relief and wait for you to explain, to elaborate, to tell them how to deal with it, to hook up a video link and negotiate with the alien leader- but you can't think and your brain is sticking and you can only repeat, "Teri-teri-t-t-t-" and then there is only blackness.

* * *

You wake up in- in what you've begun to think is your bed- white sheets in a room with nondescript blue wallpaper, birdsong outside and climbing roses on the windowsill. Not Rose' room- you've been tiptoeing awkwardly around the subject and haven't yet reached an agreement- your room, yes it's yours, your room, your stupid bloody universe.

For a moment you can't remember how you got there- and then you remember, and you dash to your feet, swaying a bit, and rush out into the kitchen, and Rose is there sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of tea all ready for you, and she looks so old and tired. "The Terileptils-" you begin.

"We had to shoot them down," she says in a monotone. "I'm sorry."

And you can't even remember who they were.

"Here," she says, "have some tea."

* * *

This is your life now: brain scans, tests, racking your rapidly shrinking mind, yelling at people, cursing your stupid self, and finally just frantic scribblings in notebook after notebook, alien race after alien race, for bloody stupid Torchwood, Ice Warriors and Silurians and Vervoids, just in case they ever decide to invade this tiny backwater world, and you don't even know if your vanishing knowledge will be used wisely, and this is Torchwood after all.

You keep your own, private notebook, where you write down more personal names, with even more frantic despair.

* * *

Voord, Wirrn, Cryon, Daemon, Didonian, Gaztak, Silurian. Paris, 1979, the fifty-first century, San Francisco 1999, the creation of the universe. Adric, Jamie, Tegan, Ace, Fitz. Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. Sarah Jane.

Gallifrey. Chapters, Castellans, Cardinals. The Panopticon, the Capitol, the Eye of Harmony. Rassilon, Omega, the Other. Maxil, Borusa, Flavia. Drax, Professor Chronotis. The Rani. The Master. Romana. Susan.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight.

Repeat.

* * *

Rose finds you, appropriately enough, out in the rose garden, sitting on a stone bench drawing patterns in the gravel with your trainers, muttering your litany of names under your breath. She sits down next to you and holds your hand. You look at her- her beautiful body, her big brown eyes, her soft expression. Her kindness. Her humanity. For a moment you think of telling her what you've already figured out. That you're losing everything. Everything before her. Everything right up to the moment his ninth self first laid eyes on this fragile young mortal. You think of confiding your darkest suspicions, that this isn't natural, this isn't anything like he'd been led to expect, that this must have been caused. That you must have been forced into the perfect companion for Rose Tyler. You think of cursing your other self aloud, screaming for him to come back with your TARDIS, your memories, your life.

Instead you kiss her. It seems like the natural thing to do. And later, when you go back to her bedroom instead of your own, that seems like the natural thing also. The natural human thing.

You're getting quite good at this humanity lark. And just as well, because what else is there for you now?

* * *

_One month later_

_"I'm sorry if it's impolite, but I'm sort of required to ask: are you now, or have you ever been, part of a plot to invade Earth and enslave its peoples and/or eat them?"_

_The girl with the sad eyes laughed her sad laugh. "Sorry, no," she said. Jake thought she looked faded, rather, an illusion enhanced by the fact that she wore no color, only a dress as pale as her long yellow hair._

_"You see, we can't just have people popping in from other universes all the time, it confuses the paperwork something terrible," he said, wondering why he sounded apologetic. "Particularly if they have two hearts."_

_"Don't worry," the girl said, "I'll be off as soon as you let me have my dimension hopper back."_

_"Well, I'll see what I can do."_

_"Here it is," a man's voice said, and he appeared around the corner: he didn't wear the blue suit any more, but rather a plain white t-shirt and jeans. And he'd cut his wonderful hair. Still had the sideburns, though. "Seems to be what it says it is. I guess we can let you have it back, Miss..." His voice trailed off._

_"This is Dr. John Smith, our scientific advisor," Jake said hurriedly._

_"You look familiar," the scientific advisor said, sounding puzzled and lost._

_"I've never seen you in my life," the girl with the sad eyes said. She took the dimension hopper from his outstretched fingers and slung her arms through the straps. With a flash as bright as the memory of a long ago cafe, she was gone._


	25. Fishing

_Hello, y'all. I realize I've been a bit dead lately, but I've been sick with mono (glandular fever, for those of you across the pond.) I thought I should probably stick something up here before you all give up on me. Say hi to Fitz. He's a companion who appears in almost all of the Eighth Doctor Adventure novels, and now an audio play as well! (Squee.) He's from 1963, I believe, and he smokes and plays guitar and is a bit sexist and totally a lovable loser. This is set post-Ancestor Cell, so the Doctor has a beard and amnesia, AGAIN. For those of you unfamiliar with the EDAs, they're the dark side of canon, and terribly awful things happen to Fitz and the Doctor. Fitz/Doctor is semi-canonical, yayz. And Nine's jacket was totally Fitz' first.  
_

_

* * *

  
_

"Fitz, wake up!" This was followed by a loud banging on his door. "Fiiitttz!"

"Sflwzg," Fitz mumbled. He'd been having a nice dream. Well. Sort of nice. At first it had involved that green-skinned space babe whose planet they'd saved last week, but then she'd somehow morphed into the Doctor. Naked. It wasn't fair. Not even his subconscious would back him up in the I'm Not Into Blokes, Really argument. And now someone was banging on his door. Well, at least this time he wasn't hung over.

"Fitz! Come on! We're going fishing!"

It took him a moment to process that, and then he sighed. Fishing. OK then. He fell out of bed with a groan, sheets tangled around his legs. Now at least half awake, he managed to pull on his usual dashing attire: jumper, jeans, and battered leather jacket. Something was tragically wrong with the world, he thought as he opened the door. It wasn't even eight in the morning yet and already he needed a ciggie.

The view which greeted him did not greatly improve his mood. The Doctor was standing there, the usual bemused yet cheerful grin plastered all over his damnably pretty face, but he had a long metal fishing pole over one shoulder and instead of his usual elegantly anachronistic velvet-and-lace ensemble he was wearing- was wearing-

Fitz blinked. "Christ, that thing is so ugly it should be illegal."

The blithe smile wavered somewhat. "Well, actually it did get me banned from several planets, and on Arterius XVII they declared it a psychological war weapon-"

"Yeah, yeah," Fitz said. "What's this about fishing?"

The Doctor blinked. "That's all you've got to say about the coat?"

Fitz frowned. "You wore it just to provoke me?"

"No," the alien replied, and looked away, almost guiltily. "I just felt like... I just wanted to do something different today."

Something felt tight in Fitz' chest at that, because it was a sign of Things Not Being All Right, and fuck it, he'd promised Iris or Brenda or whatever her name was that he'd look after the Doctor, that was what he was there for after all, the silly git'd get himself killed in a second if Fitz wasn't there, and Fitzgerald Michael Kreiner always kept his promises. Well. No he didn't. Not even really important ones. But fucking Christ he was going to keep this one.

"Okay," he said eventually, exhaling like he'd just sucked in a deep lungful of cigarette smoke. "That's- that's fine, you can wear the coat if you like, we can go fishing if you want. It- it sounds like fun."

"Okay," the Doctor repeated, in imitation almost, and the stupid word sounded so strange in the Doctor's vaguely upper-class British accent.

"Okay," Fitz said again, feeling like the biggest idiot ever, and then he went to have breakfast, ie jam on toast and a fag. And a beer, for good measure.

The Doctor wandered in after a while and stared at him disapprovingly.

"Shouldn't you be getting out the tackle or whatever it is?" Fitz snapped guiltily.

The Doctor shook his head, sadly, and left again. Fitz gulped down a huge swallow of beer.

The door of the TARDIS opened up onto a very _ordinary _lake. Fitz's mother had never taken him on holidays in country, so he'd never actually been somewhere like this, but he recognized it vaguely as the quintessential English pond, ie, muddy and wet. As the final finishing touch it began to rain, half-heartedly.

"Come on!" the Doctor cried, all manic again, running outside, umbrella raised. For a moment all Fitz could do was stand and watch him. The Doctor moved like a flat stone skipping across still water, a momentary defiance of gravity; right now he was flying and it was brilliant, but eventually he was going to sink.

Fitz pried his clenched fingers from the familiar wood of the door frame and followed. It was all he could do really.

The Doctor was standing on an old dock, rotting wood and green moss. There was a boat tied up there, one that was a pale blue once, but now the paint was peeling and flaking off. Fitz groaned. "Please tell me we're not getting in that thing," he told the Doctor.

The Doctor blinked innocently. "We're not getting in that thing."

"Really?"

"No," and he stepped in and stood on the bottom of the thing, wobbling back and forth alarmingly, that ridiculous coat flapping, and so Fitz just had to clamber in after him and shout at him and pull him down onto the splintery wooden seat, and by that time the tricky bastard had pushed them out onto the water with the tip of his fishing pole.

"Wait," Fitz cried, "the oars!"

The oars were back at the dock.

Fitz looked at the Doctor accusingly. The stupid alien widened his pretty brown eyes innocently, and shrugged.

"Great," Fitz moaned, "now we're stuck."

The Doctor smiled. "How about some fishing?"

…

It was actually quite peaceful, Fitz thought, to just be lying here, staring up at the gray sky, aimlessly, the gentle rocking motion of the boat all around him. The rain had stopped and the clouds were beginning to clear, illuminating each strand of the Doctor's mop of curls, and Fitz noticed how each one was a slightly different color.

It was silly of him, he knew, to think the Doctor needed him. The man had somehow managed to survive his reckless escapades for over a thousand years before Fitz had come along. And yet he could remember, with vivid clarity, all the times the game had turned too real, when his arms had wrapped around that velvet jacket, pulling his best friend out of harm's way. And maybe that was all he needed, really- someone to drag him out of the way, someone who wouldn't let him stand there and watch in wonder as destruction approached. And, well, Fitz was happy to do that.

But, well, this was very awkward and unmanly but sometimes he thought that maybe the Doctor needed more than that. Maybe they both did. He remembered waiting outside of a locked door with cooling tea by his foot and nothing in the air but sadness. When he played his guitar lately, no songs came forth, only awful twanging chords like he was some angsting teenager emoting through instrument torture.

We can't go on like this, Fitz thought, as a hint of a breeze played its fingers through that hair and teased at the technicolor coat.

"Fitz!" the Doctor cried suddenly, as much in motion now as he was still a moment before. "Fitz, I've got something on the line-"

He stood up, which Fitz suddenly knew was a very bad idea, and the boat began to rock, back and forth- the line was being tugged from the Doctor's hands, and he was tugging right back- and Fitz cried out and lunged forward, hands reaching, stretching, longing-

And somehow they both ended up in the water. Which was cold, slimy and generally disgusting.

…

The Doctor was shivering when they got back to the TARDIS. Fitz frowned at that. The Doctor's core temperature was several degrees lower than a human's, so a swim through a puddle shouldn't have bothered him.

Fitz' jumper was clinging to his chest and the jacket would probably never be the same again, but he was more concerned with the shivering. "Go take a shower, all right?" he said, and couldn't resist adding, "You idiot."

Fitz took a shower himself. There was no sign of the Doctor when he emerged. He looked at the jacket regretfully before putting on a new stunningly original jeans-and-jumper combination. He considered getting a trench coat. It might make him look more mysterious and dashing.

At least the Doctor's horrid patchwork coat was forever consigned to the bottom of a lake. He cheered up at the thought.

He eventually settled down in the study with two mugs of tea. It took him an embarrassingly long time to get the fire going, but eventually it began to crackle grumpily, and he collapsed into an armchair with a vague feeling of discontent. He shivered a little, and hoped his hair would dry soon. It would be nice to blow dry it, but that would be acting too much of a girl.

He was sure the Doctor blow-dried his hair. There was no other reason for it to look so soft and pretty and was he really thinking this much about a bloke's hair? God, he needed a smoke.

The door opened quietly and Fitz felt his mouth fall open and his brain break because there was the Doctor, in a bathrobe, with his hair all damp and ringlet-y and rivulets of water running down his bare chest and fuck it Fitz really was queer, wasn't he. Nnnngk. Some detached part of his mind was thinking that this was kind of a shame, considering how many girls he got to shag on their adventures, even if he did compare them all to the Doctor which was weird now that he thought about it, but most of his mind was just repeating like a broken record "wet hair, wet chest, wet Doctorrrrr.... eeeeeee..."

"Um," he said vaguely. "Would you like some tea?"

The Doctor looked at him. Then he looked at the tea. "Thank you, that would be very nice," he said vaguely. He sat down on the couch and gingerly took the cup and saucer that Fitz handed to him. Fitz found himself vaguely disappointed that their fingers didn't touch.

The Doctor stared at the tea for a while as though he had forgotten what it was. He gently placed it down on the coffee table, and looked up.

There was a long, awkward silence.

"I'm sorry, Fitz," the Doctor said.

"Um," Fitz said, and drank his tea to cover his confusion. He drank it too fast and had to cough a bit, and then he said, "What, for the boat? No, that was, um, that was fun. Really. I've always wanted to splash around in a muddy pond. One of my childhood dreams." He became aware that he sounded a bit like an idiot, and shut his mouth with a snap.

The Doctor closed his eyes. "I didn't mean that," he said.

"No," Fitz muttered quietly, "no, I didn't think you did."

...

..

.


	26. A Terrible Calamity Befalls The Doctor

_I saw the trailer for Season Five! It looked brilliant! Except for the kissing. I'm hoping it was alien-mindcontrol-induced kissing, gah.

* * *

  
_

The Doctor woke up one morning with the terrible certainty that there was something horribly wrong with the world. The problem was that he didn't know exactly what.

He thought about it as he made himself coffee. Coffee didn't actually do anything to him but he liked the noise of the coffee grinder. He'd bought a particularly loud one just for this purpose.

Amy came in, hands over her ears. "Shut that thing up, will you?" she grumbled and started to fry an omlette on the TARDIS' stovetop.

He shut it off. He started humming under his breath. _And we're banned from Argo, everyone, _he sang inside his head. _Banned from Argo, just for having a little fun. We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or-_

"Oh do shut up," Amy said good-naturedly, flipping her omelette.

He stared at her for a moment before deciding to be offended. "My humming is brilliant," he informed her. "I've won awards."

"What, in the Tone Deaf Society Talent Show?" she inquired.

"None of my _other _companions ever complained," he told her. "Rose _loved _my humming. Rose loved _me, _you know. It was great."

"I'm sure," Amy said, doing that weird thing with her eyebrows. She flipped her omelette onto her plate, grabbed the salt, and then left the room.

The Doctor stared at her retreating red hair and gorgeous calves and suddenly everything clicked into place and he knew what the terrible, horrible, awful, universe-threatening calamity was. It was worse than his darkest nightmares. He stood frozen, slack-jawed, limbs paralyzed by the extreme horror. No. It couldn't be true. But it was.

The question was, what was he going to do about it?

He would come up with a cunning plan, the Doctor realized. That was always a good idea.

* * *

"Run!" the Doctor yelled, grabbing Amy's hand. They sprinted across the field of shiny black rock, phasers firing in the distance and mines going off all around them.

"What did we ever do to them?!" Amy yelled.

"Er," the Doctor panted. "Um, I might have, ah, accidentally killed their god, but it was all a terrible misunderstanding, really-"

He was certain that if they weren't running for their lives she'd be giving him that Look. Lucky break there then.

They skidded to a stop in front of a sheer cliff. They were trapped. The Doctor was delighted. Time to execute Plan A!

"We're going to die," he said dramatically, rending his conveniently long hair. He gave her an intense, smouldering look. "Is there anything you want to tell me before we are horribly ripped to pieces and processed into plastic?"

Amy thought about it for a second. "I think your hair is ridiculous," she said eventually.

The Doctor was too depressed to take offense. "You're sure?"

_Now _she used the Look. The Doctor recoiled. "All right, fine," he said sullenly, and handed her an Insta-Gro Parachute.

* * *

_"We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or four,  
But Argo doesn't want us any more, any more, any moo-ooo-oore-"_

"Doctor, if you don't stop singing right now, I am going to strangle you!" Amy said, banging on the door. To her surprise, it opened, confronting her with rather more of the Doctor than she usually got to see.

"I mean it!" she said, waggling her finger at him.

"Go away!" the Doctor yelled theatrically. "I'm NAKED!"

"Yeah, I noticed that, thanks," Amy said, and slammed the door closed on her way out.

The Doctor ran his fingers through his soapy hair, a look of disappointment on his face. Dejectedly, he began to apply the second coat of passionfruit scented conditioner.

* * *

"Doctor! You're alive!" Amy cried, giving him a hug. The Doctor clung to her hopefully. She patted him on the head. "Well, they don't seem to have harmed your hair, so I suppose the rest of you's all right. Now, I've been talking to the resistance leader, and they know a secret passage into the spacedocks."

The Doctor let go, and gave her a weird look.

"What?" Amy asked.

"Nothing," the Doctor said sulkily.

* * *

"Well, we're locked in a cell," the Doctor told Amy, settling his skinny shoulders back against the bars. "Looks like it's going to be hours. And they'll execute us in the morning."

"You don't have to sound so cheerful about it," Amy said mournfully. She was dying for a cup of tea and _General Hospital._

"Let's make passionate love," the Doctor suggested.

"Let's not," Amy said absent-mindedly, wondering if green amphibian creatures had medical soaps.

* * *

_ "The Captain's tastes were simple, but his methods were complex.  
We found him with five partners, each of a different world and sex.  
The Shore Police were on the way-we had no second chance.  
We beamed him up in the nick of time-and the remnants of his pants."_

"Nothing I tried worked," the Doctor moaned. "I'm starting to believe it."

"Believe what, Doc?" Jack slurred, focussing his eyes on his Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.

"She's not in love with me! Not even the tiniest eensy weensy bit!"

Jack blinked. "Ah?" he hazarded intelligently.

"ALL of my companions are in love with me!" the Doctor exclaimed, waving his arms about. He was on his third glass of ginger beer and had become very expressive.

"Doctor," Jack said quietly, "this wasn't how I imagined buying you a drink was going to go."

"I just don't understand it!" the Time Lord wept. He turned to Jack, grabbed his shoulders. "Jack, I'm attractive, aren't I?"

Jack smirked. "Well, _I _think so," he said. "But it's possible your new kid... isn't interested in, you know..."

"What?" the Doctor demanded, hair falling over his eyes.

"Younger men," Jack finished, grinning like he did at the punchline to a particularly filthy joke.

The Doctor gaped, dumbfounded. After stammering for a bit, he managed to find his voice. "I- I- I'm over a thousand, I'll have you know, whippersnapper!"

Jack turned to the bartender, banging his glass on the table. "Another round, please!" he shouted, and launched into the seventh verse. _"Our Doctor loves Humanity; his private life is quiet.  
The Shore Police arrested him for inciting whores to riot. We found him in the city jail, locked on and beamed him free-  
Intact except for hickeys and six kinds of VD!" _

"You do that just to annoy me, don't you," the Doctor moaned.

"Of course, my sweet philanthropist," Jack laughed. Ah. There was the next round. He shoved the ginger beer towards the alien and picked up his own Gargle Blaster. "How does the chorus go again?" he inquired as he poured the acidic alcohol down his throat.

_"Our Engineer would yield to none at putting down the brew;  
He out-drank seven space marines and a demolition crew.  
The Navigator didn't win, but he out-drank almost all,  
And now they've got a shuttlecraft on the roof of City Hall."

* * *

_

"Good for her," Martha said firmly.

"But Ma-arthaaaa-!"

"Go sleep it off, now; you're a disgrace, and I can't be having drunk Lords of Time in my flat."

"But Martha, everyone falls in love with me! You did, didn't you?"

"Donna wasn't in love with you," Martha said diplomatically.

"Yes she was."

"Donna? No."

"She so was."

"Was not."

"Was too."

Clearly she wasn't going to get anything constructive done that night. Martha sighed, and put down her pen.

* * *

"I was not in love with you," Sarah Jane told him.

"What, even last week when we had wild kinky sex on your kitchen counter?"

Sarah could feel herself beginning to turn red. "Well, you were older then," she says defensively. "And I've never been able to resist sideburns. It doesn't mean anything."

"I'M NOT THAT YOUNG, DAMMIT!" the Doctor yelled at the Multiverse.

* * *

"Why are you asking me for advice about women? For one thing, I've never much bothered with them; for another, I'm _dead."_

"You still love me, don't you?"

"..."

"Don't you?"

"...yes. You bastard."

"I knew it! I knew you still cared!"

"My goodness, what a marvelous reversal of positions we are in. Regardless, I am still dead, so let me get some nice rest in peace, please."

"Come _on, _Koschei-"

"What do you want me to say? I'm just a computer-calculated simulation, one you yourself designed. And we all know how narcissistic you are."

_"Fine. _But you'll regret it when Amy and I start holding hands and staring soulfully into each other's eyes."

_"Terminate program, PLEASE."

* * *

_

_When we pulled into Argo Port in need of R&R,  
The crew set out investigating every joint and bar.  
We had high expectations of their hospitality,  
But found too late it wasn't geared for spacers such as we.

* * *

_

The Doctor was a bit worried, and a bit annoyed. He couldn't seem to find Amy. He had been right about to launch into this brilliant speech that would prove beyond a doubt how incredibly clever he was, and then he had noticed that she wasn't there. Oh well. The planet was saved, the monarchy restored, the beautiful princess in his debt, the festival in his honor declared; everything was just swell and they could leave, he supposed. "AMY!" he bellowed. "WE'RE GOING!" After a second he yelled again, "AMY!"

He eventually found her half an hour later, in one of the castle linen closets, snogging the princess. "Oh," he said, embarrassed, "excuse me," and he shut the door and stared at his trainers in consternation before deciding to go and check on the festival and make sure they spelled his name right.

* * *

_The lyrics here used are from "Banned from Argo", a very famous Trek filk song._


	27. Hello My Name Is Fred 3

_River is made of win. This is truth.

* * *

_

So there she was, living her happily ever after. Forever.

On Friday (but it was always Friday) she was playing golf with her imaginary friends, sipping cocktails and fanning herself, when suddenly she threw her golf club through a nearby window, smashed her wineglass, and said, "Good grief." Then she went to find Cal.

"Cal!" she demanded. "This is rather intensely boring and I miss my doctor! I am fed up with taking care of perfect little imaginary children and hanging out with imaginary friends! I demand that you- Cal?"

The little girl had a frightening, empty, vacant look on her face.

"Cal? Are you all right?"

Suddenly the mansion felt very empty.

"Doctor Moon?" she called.

No helpful satellite answered.

"Oh dear," she said in a small voice. She went to the window.

There was nothing but whiteness outside. Just... white. "Oh God," she whispered. "Please don't let me die. Not without seeing him, please?"

As if in answer to her prayer, the TV widened and lengthened to form a doorway, and a glowing figure stepped through.

"God?" River asked hesitantly.

The glow faded, sinking into the figure's skin to reveal a young blond woman with a long purple coat. "'Fred' will do," she said.

* * *

And then they were sitting around the living room table, having tea.

"What?" River asked. "We skipped just then, didn't we?"

The blond woman said only, "My, these chocolate biscuits are good."

Then River noticed that it wasn't quite the mansion living room any more. Instead of dignified mahogany and thick carpeting, there was airiness and marble and ionic columns. "This isn't my living room," she said crossly. "What have you done to my living room?"

The blond woman didn't look up. "Oh, it's just reverted to my usual setting," she said. "We're sort of inside my brain at the moment."

River looked down at the creamy marble floor. It looked like floor. "That's ridiculous," she said. "Humans don't have that much memory space."

The blond woman gave her a look that suggested that River was being rather thick at the moment.

"You're not human?" River said.

"I'm not really much of anything at the moment," said the woman. "Rather like you, I am not much more than a rather advanced computer program that thinks it was once alive."

"I'm a person! I'm real!" River said hotly.

The blond woman smiled briefly. "That's the spirit."

"Look, who _are _you?"

Enigmatic smile again.

Sudden suspicion. "Do you know the Doctor?"

The blond woman looked away. "Let's take a walk," she said.

* * *

They strolled beside a swift, wide river. Green banks rolled away on either side. River caught sight of a church tower somewhere in the distance. "I really wish you wouldn't do that," she said. "I _hate _skipping. Anyway, where is this place? I don't remember it."

The other woman seemed lost in memory. "The Thames," she said. "1892 A.D. Earth."

River surveyed her. "You used to travel with the Doctor then?"

"What makes you think that? There are other time travelers. You're from the fifty-first century, right? Your little pet Time Agency, then."

"I.... I just know. You... you seem a bit like him, somehow."

The blond woman stopped, and stared out into space, and her hands were twisting around and around and she was muttering under her breath, something about vectors. And then the flow of technobabble stopped, and all that was left was words. "I have to warn... to warn him... The bait," she said, her eyes focusing for one scary moment and looking into River's. "The serpent. Carrot in front of the donkey. He'll reach out... and the mirror will shatter. Lady of Shalott, will go floating down the river. River," and then suddenly she was back to normal and walking along like nothing had ever happened.

This was turning out to be a very strange day.

* * *

River was sitting, feeling useless, on the edge of an ornamental marble fountain, while Cal sat in front of the blond woman. Their fingertips were on each other's temples, and they seemed to be exchanging information.

River looked down into the fountain. Goldfish were swimming in there, goldfish that weren't quite goldfish, that seemed to have too many fins.

Cal took her hands away, opened her eyes, frowned in concentration. "Yes," she said in her little girl's voice, "it's possible."

"Anything's possible," said the blond woman, smiling, and suddenly River was filled with the strangest sort of rage.

She grabbed the blond woman and pushed her bodily against the wall. She was so light, like she was made of air. River put her down, gently. "I want answers," she said, almost crying, almost weeping with confusion.

The first genuine smile, and it warmed up the universe. "All right."

* * *

They were sitting together on the bed in River's old room. She clutched at the bedspread unsteadily, unbalanced by this false familiarity. "All right," she said. "First off, what's your-" Suddenly she remembered the Doctor, and corrected herself. "-what should I call you?"

"Like I said, Fred will do nicely."

"All right. Fred." It was a strange name, but someone called River Song did not do well to comment on other people's names. "So... if you're not human, what are you?"

And then she was looking into impossibly ancient eyes, and suddenly, she knew. "Oh," she gasped. "Oh. Well. I didn't know there were any- oh. He always said-"

"He doesn't know about me," Fred said in quiet, even tones, but her fists were clenched. "I didn't exactly survive. Something of a secret emergency program in the Matrix- I was _recorded. _The original me died. I'm something... else. Just a... copy. The consciousness I was copied from... she's dead." Fred swallowed. "He saw her die."

Something else was quickly becoming apparent, and River felt a huge, dreadful question looming up before her. She staved it off. "So you sort of emailed yourself here then?"

"Not immediately. I floated around for a couple billion years first. For a while I didn't even know I _was _me. Then I ran into a certain piece of code. A sort of virus, a Bad Wolf, we used to call them in programming class- it copied itself into my data, fixed up all the bits I was missing. I looked for more- this code, you know, it's replicated, all over the universe! And, well, it led me here, and now I seem to have a body, which is quite a relief, let me tell you."

"It's a nice one," River complimented her, with a tiny little smile.

"Thank you," Fred replied.

River reached out and took her hand. Sitting like that, on the bed, holding hands, feet dangling, she felt sixteen again, and nervous. "Why do you think you are here?" she asked.

"I don't know," Fred told her, and her ankles crossed, Mary Janes clicking, and it struck River that Fred was just as nervous as she was.

"There's no place like home," River murmured. "Well. I did say I was bored."

* * *

This time she welcomed the shift, encouraged it. They were once again standing on the lawn, Cal and her team and the children all lined up to wave goodbye. River looked at them, and remembered why she'd become an archeologist, remembered that no matter how wonderful the past, what's even more wonderful is saying goodbye to it, storing those memories on a beloved bookshelf in your mind, and moving on, on to the next great adventure.

This time it wasn't the TV- for a symbolic departure, they needed something more dignified than that, and so Fred twisted her thoughts and summoned up a door, plain beech wood, with a red-painted door handle and no keyhole. River and Fred exchanged a glance, and then they stepped forward together, and together took hold of the handle and turned it and stepped through, hands still threaded together, into the future and the whole wide universe.


	28. Physical Resemblance

_I'm sorry it's been so long! RL has been weird. But I'm back, hopefully for longer this time._

_Oh god this one is so insanely meta. Because it isn't about the Doctor, not really, it's about me, and the strange connections I've been drawing this season. It's also about The Thing That Happened in _Cold Blood _and as such beware of HORRIBLE HORRIBLE SPOILERS. Also, some vague familiarity with the main characters of the EDAs is somewhat required._

_Note: the scene with Amy and the Doctor walking down the track is actually a deleted scene from Hungry Earth. Go look it up, it's amazing._

_

* * *

_

_.._

_..._

_...  
_

* * *

This is a story about someone who never existed.

* * *

Therefore, it can't be true.

* * *

"So is this what's going to happen to every romantic holiday, then?" Rory asks awkwardly, still caught up in a moment that might be something like joking camaraderie with the Doctor. This seems to be the wrong thing to say, so he hurriedly adds, "I don't mind or anything, honestly." He'd say whatever at this point, just so's not to mess up whatever it is he's so unexpectedly gained, but he's surprised to find the words are nearly true. He can still feel it, something almost physically tangible, stretching between them. _We're so her boys._ He looks around at the amazing, impossible ship and thinks he might just be all right here.

"Well," the Doctor begins, and then stops. "Possibly?"

Amy's laughing, and spinning a little bit, amongst the blinking lights and tiny dangling technological wonders, and the world seems to pause for a moment to wonder at her beauty. This happens so often Rory is surprised it hasn't yet decided to stop for good.

He laughs a bit himself, and looks back at the Doctor, and then he stops, and feels the heavy awkwardness descending once again, because the mad, brilliant man is looking back at him with the strangest sort of lack of expression, and he wonders what it is he's done wrong now.

* * *

The Doctor is not quite used to this new body yet, but already some very strange things have been happening to him.

Nostalgia. That's always been his curse. Letting go of the past is oddly difficult for time travelers. He's experienced it in so many different forms over the years that he ought to have been used to it by now- but this was different. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Sure, he's always had a predilection for redheads- but it ought to be Donna he was moping over, not a woman he'd known three bodies ago who hadn't even been entirely human. So why is it that every time he looks at Amy's long legs and longer carroty locks, he finds his thoughts turning towards that girl who'd once been known as Laura Tobin, the girl who'd turned into a time machine, the girl who'd never existed?

He's been feeling rather out of sorts these last few weeks, and it was only the other day that he realized why. He's felt this way once before, in a different life, walking back into his old House, and finding it dangerously changed. Now, though, he felt as though he were walking back into his old life. And there are people there to meet him. People who've never met him before.

The universe has altered, once again, in some subtle, insidious way. It is full of more wonder, and more terror. And it haunts him.

It's not until this very moment, however, that it all clicks into place.

* * *

Something weird's going on. Rory doesn't know what. He's sitting in the library one day, struggling through _Temporal Theory 101_, by someone called Aaron P. Blinovitch, enjoying the quiet susurrations of the swimming pool, when the Doctor enters. Rory looks up, nods in acknowledgment, then returns to the page. After a moment he looks up again. Is the Doctor really carrying a _guitar_? A rather retro one too, by the look of it, although really the sum total of Rory's knowledge about guitars could be written down on a very small piece of note paper.

"Why're you holding a guitar?" Rory asks ingeniously.

The Doctor looks down, seemingly startled to find the instrument in his long hands. "I thought you might like it," he mumbles. "It's a present."

Rory blinks. He's a little pleased that the Doctor likes him enough to give him a present, but- "I'm, uh, not very musical." Actually that's a bit of an understatement. Amy's made it clear on multiple occasions that if she ever hears him singing in the shower again he can kiss his chance at matrimonial bliss goodbye.

The Doctor looks confused, and a little bit lost. "Oh," he says, sounding rather woebegone. Rory feels his nurturing nature kick in. Oh damn.

"I've always wanted to learn guitar, though. I'm sure it'll come in handy. Thanks, that's- that's really nice of you." He puts down his book a careful distance away from the edge of the pool, and stumbles over to take the thing from the Doctor. It's really amazingly heavy, and he nearly drops it, but eventually he manages to settle it in his protesting arms. "I guess I should go and put this in my room then," he says.

"Yes," replies the Doctor, looking relieved. He rocks on his heels a little, tugging at his bowtie.

What kind of sad statement is it, Rory thinks, that this isn't even a particularly bizarre encounter, for his new life onboard the good ship TARDIS.

He remembers the look the Doctor had, though, for a while afterward. He looked so oddly _wanting_. Wanting what, is the question.

* * *

Rory's gone back to make sure the ring's safe- dawdling, he's always been a dawdler- but Amy's happy right now, just walking down a rather peaceful country track, her and the Doctor. It gives her a chance to ask him about something that's been occupying her mind. "Me and Rory on the hillside, future us. That's good right? That happens? We get our happily ever after."

"As things stand in this time stream-" the Doctor is gloomy as ever- "time's not fixed, so things can change."

Amy sighs. "Yeah, I see your point." It doesn't matter anyway. It's a nice, comforting thought, her and Rory on a hill, waving- and she can keep that for herself. Right now she's happy to talk about anything with her not-so-Raggedy Doctor. They're together and they're out here having adventures, and all that is just fine with Amy.

The Doctor speaks, suddenly, surprisingly. "But yes," he says quietly, "I like him." And then, even more softly and shyly, sort of awkward- "A lot."

Amy doesn't know what to make of that. The Welsh countryside is green and misty, and the Doctor's eyes are very far away.

* * *

He feels on top of the world right now. Nasreen is brilliant, she really is; but now, now when she's being assertive and diplomatic and negotiating, representing the best of humanity- now he feels like he has Anji back, and he's starting to believe it's all slotting into place, starting to hope he can actually regain what he's lost. That would be so, so wonderful- and surely he deserves it, after all he's been through?

A part of him is whispering, in the back of his head- reminding him that he of all people should know it's not outward appearances that matter, and if Amy is the spitting image of prickly Compassion and Nasreen somewhat resembles his fierce Anji they're _really, really not the same people at all-_

He ignores it.

* * *

_"Let's play Raggedy Doctor," Amy cries, excited and pleased with herself. "Except now you have to wear a bowtie, too."_

_ "Amy, this is ridiculous," Rory says, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. "We're not kids, and- and we're here in the actual time machine,why do you want to pretend?"_

_ "I want to," she says, because she doesn't really know, herself. "Please, Rory? Please please please?"_

_ "Fine," and he starts to remember how to do it, how to get in the right mindset, and then the shame and embarrassment just melts away._

_ "Hello, Amelia Pond," he says, starting to grin crazily. "There's a Tyrannosaurus Rex in the study, and I need some help catching it. You look like a resourceful young lady. Would you mind lending a hand?" He feels a great weight lifting off his shoulders. Suddenly he's crazy and amazing and he can walk on air and dance across time. _

_ "I don't know," Amy replies, smiling slyly. "What's in it for me?"_

_ This isn't the way they usually play it, but he tries to run with it anyway. "Perhaps you would like a rare diamond from the caves of the spider planet circling a cold star in the fifth galaxy? Or I could give you a goldfish that will speak and grant your wishes." _

_ "I think I know something else you could give me," she says, and she pushes him back into the wall. Suddenly her mouth is on his, her hands are tightening in his hair; he is hyper-aware of her hips sliding against his and her tongue slipping between his teeth. _

_ This is wrong, he knows it is, but all of a sudden it doesn't matter because he's the Doctor, he's the mysterious man from the stars, he's the man that Amy wants and that's a delicious feeling, icy and hot at the same time, to be the man that Amy wants. He slips his hands under her shirt._

_ "Kissing me again, Amy Pond?" says a quiet voice as distant and chilly as a black hole._

_ They break apart. Amy tugs down her shirt, eyes wild, shoulders hunched, frightened and desperate and ashamed. But the Doctor's not looking at her. He's looking at Rory._

_ Rory stares back, angry and defensive and upset. _

_ The Doctor's fingers tighten on the railing, knuckles whitening, and then he lets go, and leaves, without another word.

* * *

_

Once upon a time there was a boy named Fitz Kreiner. But this is not that story, because this story is true, and Fitz Kreiner never existed.

* * *

Neither did Rory Williams.

* * *

..

...

...


	29. Curse of the Fatal Wedding

I'm sorry it's been so long. I can't promise anything in the future- right now I'm kind of drifting away from this fandom, but I have no doubt I'll drift back in time.

For Savannah, finally.

* * *

For maybe half a minute after she wakes up, River Song stares at the ceiling and attempts to sort out her life into categories that make sense. Then, as always, she picks up the diary with the blue cover, opens to a new page, the pen from yesterday falling out. This time she writes only two words, wedding today.

The Doctor is downstairs, pacing, pausing now and then to adjust his tie. She pats herself on the back for remembering to lock the TARDIS safety brake the previous night. Oh, this is so happening, she thinks. Finally, I am going to make this work.

"Hello, sweetie," she coos. "Ready for the big day?"

The Doctor stops pacing, turns to look at her, and opens and closes his mouth a few times, rather like a fish. "I- look, River, I- there's something you really ought to know-"

"Yes?" River finally interrupted, taking pity on her stammering fiance.

The Doctor stares. He works his jaw soundlessly. Nothing comes out.

"I need to fix my hair," River announces after a moment, not unkindly. "And I could murder for some breakfast."

* * *

"And if any know of a reason why these two should not be wedded, speak now or forever hold your peace. Anyone? No? Very well then-"

"STOP THE WEDDING!" someone yells.

River turns around, very put out. There's a thin, rangy man with a villainous mustache bursting in through the doors, in a very stagey, overdone sort of way. She sighs. "Doctor," she says tiredly, "it's your ex."

"Oh, this is going to be good," someone in the pews mutters. The Doctor makes a small gulping sound, and slowly edges behind the priest. The priest sighs, gently pushes the groom away, and removes himself to the sideboard, where he helps himself to the Communion wine.

"You can't marry her," the Master shrieks, "because you're already married, you bigamist! To me!"

"Er," the Doctor says quietly, "now look, we've gone over this. We got a divorce, remember? I got the kid and you got the time machine. It's been over for nine hundred and eighty years, four months, and three days."

"You faithless bitch," the Master screams, striding up to the altar and slapping the Doctor. For a moment, shocked silence pervades the church.

Then there's the unmistakable sound of high-heeled boots clicking on the polished floor, and all eyes turn to a buxom leggy blonde walking up the aisle. She tosses her masses of eighties hair impatiently. River feels her breath catch and her eyes widen. "Ah," the Doctor mutters. "River, this would be- me. Yes. This is, um, future-me. Last-me." He pauses. "Girl-me."

"Darling, why didn't you tell me you were going to be sexy?" River chides.

The other Doctor glides to a halt in front of the three mesmerized time travelers. The Master pouts. The groom looks down and shifts his feet awkwardly. River stares. The time lady stares back.

"You." She adresses the Master. He coughs guiltily. She taps a long and painted nail on her folded arms. "I think I'm over you. To be brutally frank, the sex was never that good in the first place, and the enslavement of millions? Bo-ring." The Master gasps, eyes pleading, but she dismisses him with another toss of ringlets.

"Moving on. Me." She confronts the groom. He sighs exasperatedly. She stares him down. "There's something you need to tell your lovely fiance, right now." She taps her nails again. "I'm waiting..."

The Doctor of the male persuasion shrugs, and turns to River. "I really tried to tell you earlier, but um..."

"What," River snaps, although she can't entirely stop the amusement creeping into her voice.

"This me. It's not exactly... into women. Er."

River throws her hands up into the air. "Great. Just great. This is- lovely news to receive on my wedding day. Wonderful."

"Moving on to gorgeous mystery girl," the female Doctor interrupted, "I think we ought to make love. Right now."

River opens her mouth. Closes it. Looks the other woman up and down. "Hmm," she says. "How are you on commitment?"

"Oh, terrible," the Doctor whispers, moving closer. "Just terrible."

"Right," River murmurs, appreciating the view. "You'll just have to learn, I suppose. Professor Irving? Sorry, Reverend?"

"My dear?" The priest reappears, rather more horizontal and somewhat worse for wear. "Are my services required?"

"They certainly are," River says, drawing the blonde woman in for a passionate kiss.

"Very well, I now pronounce you officially married, and if you'll excuse me I need to go off and get so sodding drunk I'll forget I ever saw you liplocked with my sister."

Sister? River thinks briefly, but only says, "Go on then," and manages to pull away from her new wife long enough to suggest, "Perhaps we could continue in your TARDIS?"

"Let's honeymoon on Venus," the blonde agrees.

The younger Doctor watches them leave, then turns to the Master and shrugs. "Well, how about it then?"

He regrets it immediately, as a mad smile spreads over the Master's face, but by then it's too late to back out, as the Master is back almost instantaneously with the priest protesting in tow. "I am not doing this again," he claims. He does, anyway. The wedding reception proceeds as planned, and Amy and Rory seem far too amused by the whole fiasco.

* * *

"How did you come to be a woman anyway?" River asks as they sip margaritas on the edge of the Adonis Sea. Overhead, blue clouds swirl in a pink sky. A waiter brings the searingly expensive bill, which River signs in someone else's name.

"I'll explain later," the Doctor tells her.


End file.
